Eclipse Elsanna edition sequal to twilight and new moon
by elsannafan55
Summary: Graduation is approaching Anna must choose between Elsa and Kristoff. all the while Gerda is planning her revenge. And Anna has one last choice to make life or death. But which is which?
1. aluminum

Some say the world will end in fire,

Some say in ice.

From what I've tasted of desire

I hold with those who favor fire

But if I had to perish twice,

I think I know enough of hate

To say that for destruction ice

Is also great

And would suffice.

-Robert Frost

Preface

All our attempts at subterfuge had been in vain.

With ice in my heart, I watched her prepare to defend me. Her intense concentration betrayed no hint of doubt, though she was outnumbered. I knew that we could expect no help—at this moment, her family was fighting for their lives just as surely as she was for ours.

Would I ever learn the outcome of that other fight? Find out who the winners and the losers were? Would I live long enough for that?

The odds of that didn't look so great.

Black eyes, wild with their fierce craving for my death, watched for the moment when my protector's attention would be diverted. The moment when I would surely die.

Somewhere, far, far away in the cold forest, a wolf howled.

1\. Ultimatum

Anna,

Yeah, I miss you, too. A lot. Doesn't change anything. Sorry.

Kristoff

I ran my fingers across the page, feeling the dents where he had pressed the pen to the paper so hard that it had nearly broken through. I could picture him writing this—scrawling the angry letters in his rough handwriting— slashing through line after line when the words came out wrong, maybe even snapping the pen in his too-big hands that would explain the ink splatters. I could imagine the frustration pulling his black eyebrows together and crumpling his forehead. If I'd been there, I might have laughed.Don't give yourself a brain hemorrhage, Kristoff,I would have told him.Just spit it out.

Laughing was the last thing I felt like doing now as I reread the words I'd already memorized. His answer to my pleading note—passed from David to Billy to him, just like the second grade, as he'd pointed out—was no surprise. I'd known the essence of what it would say before I'd opened it.

I wasn't so naïve as to think we had left things in agoodplace. But I had hoped that we could work it all out… somehow. Something had happened after the last time I saw Kristoff in person. Something had changed his mind about where things were between us. I couldn't really blame him, though. I had told him it wasn't fair of me to tell him the truth of my feelings, if there was such a strong possibility that nothing would come of it. I had to try and reconcile myself with the fact that he had realized this himself.

What was surprising me was how much each crossed-out line wounded me—as if the points of the letters had cutting edges. More than that, behind each angry beginning lurked a vast pool of hurt; Kristoff's pain cut me deeper than my own.

While pondering this, I caught the unmistakable scent of a smoking burner rising from inside the kitchen. In another house, the fact that someone besides myself was cooking might not be cause for panicking.

I shoved the wrinkled paper into my back pocket and ran, making it downstairs in the nick of time.

The jar of spaghetti sauce David had stuck in the microwave was only on its first revolution when I yanked the door open and pulled it out.

"What did I do wrong?" David demanded.

"You're supposed to take the lid off first, Dad. Metal's bad for microwaves." I swiftly removed the lid as I spoke, poured half the sauce into a bowl, and then put the bowl inside the microwave and the jar back in the fridge; I fixed the time and pressed start.

David watched my adjustments with pursed lips. "Did I get the noodles right?"

I looked in the pan on the stove—the source of the smell that had alerted me. "Stirring helps," I said mildly. I found a spoon and tried to de-clump the mushy hunk that was scalded to the bottom.

David sighed.

"So what's all this about?" I asked him.

He folded his arms across his chest and glared out the back windows into the sheeting rain. "Don't know what you're talking about," he grumbled.

I was mystified. David cooking? And what was with the surly attitude? Elsa wasn't here yet; usually my dad reserved this kind of behavior for my girlfriend's benefit, doing his best to illustrate the theme of "unwelcome" with every word and posture. David's efforts were unnecessary—Elsa knew exactly what my dad was thinking without the show.

The wordgirlfriendhad me chewing on the inside of my cheek with a familiar tension while I stirred. How easy it had been when that word was enough. I'd use any other word, even the hokey ones likedestinyandfatethat had no place in casual conversation.

Elsa had another word in mind, and that word was the source of the tension I felt. It put my teeth on edge just to think it to myself.

Fiancé. Yikes. I shuddered away from the thought. I had managed to talk Elsa down from her proposal. After all, it had really been poor timing and, while the idea certainly made it clear how serious she was about staying with me—and had definitely improved her chances of winning back my trust—I wasn't in a proper place to make a decision of that magnitude at the time.

I shook my head, focusing myself back on the present.

"Did I miss something? Since when do you make dinner?" I asked David. The pasta lump bobbed in the boiling water as I poked it. "Ortryto make dinner, I should say."

David shrugged. "There's no law that says I can't cook in my own house."

"You would know," I replied, grinning as I eyed the badge pinned to his leather jacket.

"Ha. Good one." He shrugged out of the jacket as if my glance had reminded him he still had it on, and hung it on the peg reserved for his gear. His gun belt was already slung in place—he hadn't felt the need to wear that to the station for a few weeks. There had been no more disturbing disappearances to trouble the small town of Forks, Washington, no more sightings of the giant, mysterious wolves in the ever-rainy woods…

I prodded the noodles in silence, guessing that David would get around to talking about whatever was bothering him in his own time. My dad was not a man of many words, and the effort he had put into trying to orchestrate a sit-down dinner with me made it clear there were an uncharacteristic number of words on his mind.

I glanced at the clock, keeping track of the time. Less than half an hour to go now.

Afternoons were the worst part of my day. Ever since my former best friend (and werewolf), Kristoff Black, had informed on me about the motorcycle I'd been riding on the sly—a betrayal he had devised in order to get me grounded so that I couldn't spend time with my girlfriend (and vampire), Elsa Cullen—Elsa had been allowed to see me only from seven till nine-thirty p.m., always inside the confines of my home and under my dad's protective watch.

This was an escalation from the previous, slightly less stringent grounding that I'd earned for an unexplained three-day disappearance and one episode of cliff diving.

Of course, I still saw Elsa at school, because there wasn't anything David could do about that. And then, Elsa spent almost every night in my room, too, but David wasn't precisely aware of that. Elsa's ability to climb easily and silently through my second-story window was almost as useful as her ability to read minds.

Elsa needed as much time as she could get with me as she was still on probation for her behavior the previous September when she unceremoniously left me—for my own good, she insisted—and then tried to get herself killed when she thought she had lost me for good. It hadn't been one of her best plans. She spent the days at my side being as attentive and sweet as she could, and she spent the nights next to me in my bed whispering how much she loved me.

Though the afternoon was the only time I spent away from Elsa, it was enough to make me restless. When Elsa wasn't there to distract me, I would think of Kristoff. I had hoped, after the last time I saw Kristoff, that we would be able to work things out. I couldn't blame him for changing his mind. He had every right to, and it would be selfish of me to expect him to sit around waiting for something that very well may never happen.

Either way, I endured my punishment without complaining to David because—for one thing—I knew I'd earned it, and—for another—because I couldn't bear to hurt my dad anymore. Not when the possibility of a very permanent separation hovered, invisible to David, so close on my horizon.

My dad sat down at the table with a grunt and unfolded the damp newspaper there; within seconds he was clucking his tongue in disapproval.

"I don't know why you read the news, Dad. It only ticks you off."

He ignored me, grumbling at the paper in his hands. "This is why everyone wants to live in a small town! Ridiculous."

"What have the big, bad cities done wrong now?"

"Seattle's making a run for murder capital of the country. Five unsolved homicides in the last two weeks. Can you imagine living like that?"

"I think Phoenix is actually higher up on the homicide list, Dad. Ihavelived that." And I'd never come close to being a murder victim until after I moved to his safe little town. In fact, I was still on several hit lists… I felt a swirl of nausea in my stomach, not brought on by the pasta-mush.

"Well, you couldn't pay me enough," David said.

I gave up on saving dinner and settled for serving it; I had to use a steak knife to cut a portion of spaghetti for David and then myself, while he watched with a sheepish expression. David coated his helping with sauce and dug in. I disguised my own clump as well as I could and followed his example without much enthusiasm. We ate in silence for a moment. David was still scanning the news, so I picked up my much-abused copy ofWuthering Heightsfrom where I'd left it this morning at breakfast, and tried to lose myself in turn-of-the-century England while I waited for him to start talking.

I was just to the part where Heathcliff returns when David cleared his throat and threw the paper to the table.

"You're right," David said. "I did have a reason for doing this." He waved his fork at the gluey spread. "I wanted to talk to you."

I laid the book aside; the binding was so destroyed that it slumped flat to the table. "You could have just asked." I teased.

He nodded, his eyebrows pulling together. "Yeah. I'll remember that next time. I thought taking dinner off your hands would soften you up."

I laughed. "It worked—your cooking skills have me soft as a marshmallow. What do you need, Dad?"

"Well, it's about Kristoff."

I felt my stomach drop. "What about him?" I asked, trying to keep my voice casual.

"Well, Anna. I know you're still upset that he told on you, but it was the right thing. He was being responsible."

"Responsible," I repeated quietly. "Right. So, what about Kristoff?"

The question repeated endlessly inside my head.What about Kristoff?WhatwasI going to do about him? My former best friend… myalmostboyfriend who was now… what? My enemy? I cringed.

David's face was suddenly wary. "Don't get mad at me, okay?"

"Mad?"

"Well, it's about Elsa, too."

I raised an eyebrow. My suspicion evident on my face.

David frowned. "Hey, kiddo, listen, I let her in the house, don't I?"

"You do," I agreed. "For brief periods of time. Of course, you might let meoutof the house for brief periods now and then, too," I continued—only jokingly; I knew I was deservedly on lockdown for the duration of the school year. "I've been pretty good lately."

"Well, that's kind of where I was heading with this…" And then David's face stretched into an unexpected eye-crinkling grin; for a second he looked twenty years younger.

I saw a dim glimmer of possibility in that smile, but I proceeded slowly. "I'm confused, Dad. Are we talking about Kristoff, or Elsa, or me being grounded?"

The grin flashed again. "Sort of all three."

"And how do they relate?" I asked, cautious.

"Okay." He sighed, raising his hands as if in surrender. "So I'm thinking maybe you deserve a parole for good behavior. For a teenager, you're amazingly non-whiny."

My voice and eyebrows shot up. "Seriously? I'm free?"

Where was this coming from? I'd been positive I would be under house arrest until I actually moved out, and Elsa hadn't picked up any wavering in David's thoughts…

David held up one finger. "Conditionally."

I was wary, but intrigued. "Okay, go on."

"Anna, this is more of a request than a demand, okay? You're free. But I'm hoping you'll use that freedom… judiciously."

"Could you elaborate?"

He sighed again. "Now, I know you're satisfied to spend all of your time with Elsa— "

"I spend time with Alice, too," I interjected. Elsa's sister had no hours of visitation; she came and went as she pleased. David was putty in her capable hands.

"That's true," he said. "But you have other friends besides the Cullens, Anna, or youusedto."

"I still do, Dad!" I objected.

"When was the last time you spoke to Jeremy Stanley? Or Angela Weber?" he threw back.

"In person or on the phone?" I raised an eyebrow. "Because we text all the time, and I saw them Friday at lunch."

Before Elsa's return, my school friends had polarized into two groups. I liked to think of those groups asgoodvs.evil.Usandthemworked, too. The good guys were Angela, her steady boyfriend Ben Cheney, Makayla Newton, and Jeremy; these four had very generously forgiven me for falling into my depression when Elsa left. Logan Mallory was the evil core of thethemside, and almost everyone else seemed to go along with his anti-Anna agenda. Only Logan's sister, Lauren, seemed to waver on the edge.

With Elsa back at school, the dividing line had become even more distinct.

Elsa's return had taken its toll on Makayla's friendship, but Jeremy was un-phased—if not worried about me getting hurt again, Angela was unswervingly loyal, and Ben followed Angela's lead. Despite the natural aversion most humans felt toward the Cullens, Angela even sat dutifully beside Alice every day at lunch. After a few weeks, Angela even looked comfortable there. It was difficult not to be charmed by the Cullens—once one gave them the chance to be charming.

"Outside of school?" David asked, calling my attention back.

"I haven't seenanyoneoutside of school, Dad. Grounded, remember? Jeremy and I text all the time, but he's always going on dates. And Angela has a boyfriend, too. She's always with Ben." I thought for a moment. "IfI'm really free," I offered, "maybe Angela and I could convince the guys to go on a double date."

"Okay. But then…" He hesitated. "You and Kristoff used to be joined at the hip, and now—"

I cut him off. "Dad, what's the condition—exactly?"

"I don't think you should dump all your other friends for your girlfriend, Anna," he said in a stern voice. "It's not nice, and I think your life would be better balanced if you kept some people in it. What happened last September…"

"Was unfortunate, and I learned a lot from it." I said pointedly.

"Well," he said defensively. "If you'd had more of a life outside of Elsa Cullen, it might not have been like that."

"It probably wouldn't have gone much differently, Dad."

"Maybe, maybe not."

"I still talk to my other friends, Dad. I really do." I sighed. "Tell me your terms."

"Use your new freedom toseeyour other friends, too. Keep it balanced."

I nodded thoughtfully. "Balance is good. I can do balance." I raised an eyebrow at him. "Do I have specific time quotas to fill?" I asked, half-teasing.

He made a face, but shook his head. "I don't want to make this complicated. Just don't forget your friends…"

It was dilemma I was already struggling with. My friends. People who, for their own safety, I might never see again after graduation.

So what was the better course of action? Spend time with them while I could? Or start the separation now to make it more gradual? I quailed at the idea of the second option.

"…Particularly Kristoff," David added before I could think things through more than that.

A greater dilemma than the first. It took me a moment to find the right words. "Kristoff might be… difficult."

"The Blacks are practically family, Anna," he said, stern and fatherly again. "And Kristoff has been a very,verygood friend to you."

"Yes, he has."

"Don't you miss him at all?" David asked frustrated.

My throat suddenly felt swollen; I had to clear it twice before I answered. "Yes, I do miss him," I admitted, still looking down. "I miss him a lot."

"Then why is it difficult?"

I wasn't something I was at liberty to explain. It was against the rules for normal people—humanpeople like me and David—to know about the clandestine world full of myths and monsters that existed secretly around us. I knew all about that world—and I was in no small amount of trouble as a result. I wasn't about to get David in the same trouble.

"With Kristoff there is a… conflict," I said slowly. "A conflict about the friendship thing, I mean. Friendship doesn't seem to be enough for Kristoff." I wound my excuse out of details that were true but left out the part that Kristoff's werewolf pack bitterly hated Elsa's vampire family—and as far as they knew I was planning on becoming one of them. Even though I hadn't made any such decision. It wasn't something I could work out with him in a note, and he wouldn't answer my calls. But my plan to deal with the werewolf in person had definitely not gone over well with the vampires.

"Isn't Elsa up for a little healthy competition?" David's voice had a tinge of sarcasm in it.

I sighed. "I don't know if there's still a competition between them."

"You're hurting Kristoff's feelings, avoiding him like this. He'd rather be just friends than nothing."

Ah, nowIwas avoidinghim.

"I'm pretty sure Kristoff doesn't want to be friends at all." The words burned in my mouth. "Where'd you get that idea, anyway?"

David looked embarrassed now. "The subject might have come up with Billy…"

"You and Billy gossip like old women," I rolled my eyes, stabbing my fork into the congealed spaghetti on my plate.

"Billy's worried about Kristoff," David said. "Kristoff's having a hard time right now… He's depressed."

I felt a familiar ache in my chest, and the memory of Kristoff's face the last time I had seen him flashed across my mind.

"And then you were always so happy after spending the day with Kristoff." David sighed.

"I'm happynow." I had head meant to sound light and cheerful, but it came out as a pathetic whine.

The contrast between my words and tone broke through the tension. David burst into laughter, and I had to join in.

"Okay, okay," I agreed. "Balance."

"And Kristoff," he insisted.

"And Kristoff." I repeated.

"Good. Find that balance, Anna. And, oh, yeah, you've got some mail," David said, closing the subject with no attempt at subtlety. "It's by the stove."

I didn't move, my thoughts twisting into sadness around Kristoff's name. It was most likely junk mail; I'd just gotten a package from my mom yesterday and I wasn't expecting anything else.

David shoved his chair away from the table and stretched as he got to his feet. He took his plate to the sink, but before he turned the water on to rinse it, he paused to toss a thick envelope at me. The letter skidded across the table andthunked into my elbow.

"Er, thanks," I muttered, puzzled by his pushiness. Then I saw the return address — the letter was from the University of Alaska Southeast. "That was quick. I guess I missed the deadline on that one, too."

David chuckled.

I flipped the envelope over and then glared up at him. "It's open."

"I was curious."

"I'm shocked, Sheriff. That's a federal crime."

"Oh, just read it."

I pulled out the letter, and a folded schedule of courses.

"Congratulations," he said before I could read anything. "Your first acceptance."

"Oh, wow! Thanks, Dad."

"We should talk about tuition. I've got some money saved up —"

"Hey, hey, none of that. I'm not touching your retirement, Dad. I've got my college fund." What was left of it — and there hadn't been much to begin with.

David frowned. "Some of these places are pretty pricey, kiddo. I want to help. You don't have to go to all the way to Alaska just because it's cheaper."

It wasn't cheaper, not at all. But itwasfar away, and Juneau had an average of three hundred twenty-one overcast days per year. The first was my prerequisite, the second was Elsa's. If I was going to be hiding from murderous vampires, I wanted to be as far away from those I loved as possible. Well, thehumansI loved, at least.

"I've got it covered. Besides, there's lots of financial aid out there. It's easy to get loans." I hoped my bluff wasn't too obvious. I hadn't actually done a lot of research on the subject.

"So…" David began, and then he pursed his lips and looked away.

"So what?"

"Nothing. I was just . . ." He frowned. "Just wondering what . . . Elsa's plans are for next year?"

"Oh."

"Well?"

Three quick raps on the door saved me. David rolled his eyes and I jumped up.

"Coming!" I called while David mumbled something that sounded like, "Oh, great." I ignored him and went to let Elsa in.

I opened the door, and there she was.

Time had not made me immune to the perfection of her face. My eyes traced over her pale white features: the hard square of her jaw, the softer curve of her full lips — twisted up into a smile now, the straight line of her nose, the sharp angle of her cheekbones, the smooth marble span of her forehead — partially obscured by a tangle of rain-darkened blonde hair…

I saved her eyes for last, knowing that when I looked into them I was likely to lose my train of thought. They were wide, warm with liquid gold, and framed by a thick fringe of black lashes. Staring into her eyes always made my heart pound a little.

It was a face any female model in the world would trade her soul for. Of course, that might be exactly the asking price: one soul.

No. I didn't believe that. I felt guilty for even thinking it, and was glad—as I was often glad—that I was the one person whose thoughts were a mystery to Elsa.

She reached for my hand, and I felt a little spark of excitement when her cold fingers found mine. Her touch always did that to me, even now.

"Hey." I smiled.

She raised our interlaced fingers to brush my cheek with the back of her hand. "How was your afternoon?"

"Slow."

"For me, as well."

She pulled my wrist up to her face, our hands still twisted together. Her eyes closed as her nose skimmed along the skin there, and she smiled gently without opening them. Enjoying the bouquet while resisting the wine, as she'd once put it.

I knew that the scent of my blood—so much sweeter to her than any other person's blood, truly like wine beside water to an alcoholic—caused her actual pain from the burning thirst it engendered. But she didn't seem to shy away from it as much as she once had. I could only dimly imagine the Herculean effort behind this simple gesture.

It made me sad that she had to try so hard, but that dedication served her well in her effort to prove her love for me and end her probation.

I heard David approaching then. Elsa's eyes snapped open and she let our hands fall, keeping them twined.

"Good evening, David." Elsa was always flawlessly polite.

"Elsa." David nodded once, and then stood there with his arms crossed over his chest. He was taking the idea of parental supervision to extremes lately.

"I brought another set of applications," Elsa told me then, holding up a stuffed manila envelope. She was wearing a roll of stamps like a ring around her littlest finger.

I groaned. How were there any colleges left that she hadn't forced me to apply to already? And how did she keep finding these loophole openings? It was so late in the year.

She smiled as if shecouldread my thoughts; they must have been very obvious on my face. "There are still a few open deadlines. And a few places willing to make exceptions."

I could just imagine the motivations behind such exceptions. And the dollar amounts involved.

Elsa laughed at my expression.

"Shall we?" she asked, towing me toward the kitchen table.

"My hand is going to fall off if I have to fill out any more applications," I complained. "I think we've done enough."

Elsa ignored me, but she smiled.

David followed behind, protectively, thought he could hardly complain about the activity on tonight's agenda. He'd been pushing me to make a decision about college on a daily basis.

I cleared the table quickly while Elsa organized an intimidating stack of forms. When I movedWuthering Heightsto the counter, Elsa raised one eyebrow. I knew what she was thinking, but David interrupted before Elsa could comment.

"Speaking of college applications, Elsa," David said, trying to keep his tone polite—for my benefit, more than Elsas, "Anna and I were just talking about next year. Have you decided where you're going to school?"

Elsa smiled up at David and her voice was friendly. "Not yet. I've received a few acceptance letters, but I'm still weighing my options."

"Where have you been accepted?" David pressed.

"Syracuse…Harvard…Dartmouth… and I just got accepted to the University of Alaska Southeast today." Elsa turned her face slightly to the side so that she could wink at me. I stifled a laugh.

"Harvard? Dartmouth?" David mumbled, unable to conceal his awe. "Well that's pretty… that's something. Yeah, but the University of Alaska… you wouldn't really consider that when you could go to Ivy League. I mean, your father would want you to…"

"Carlisle's always fine with whatever I choose to do," Elsa told him serenely.

"Hmph."

"Guess what, Elsa?" I asked in a bright voice, playing along.

"What, Anna?"

I pointed to the thick envelope on the counter. "I justmyacceptance to the University of Alaska!"

"Congratulations!" She grinned. "What a coincidence."

David's eyes narrowed and he glared back and forth between the two of us. "Alright, alright," he muttered after a minute. "I'm going to watch the game, kiddo. Nine-thirty."

That was his usual parting reminder.

"Er, Dad? Remember the very recent discussion about my freedom…?"

He sighed. "Right, okay,ten-thirty. You still have a curfew on school nights."

"Anna's no longer grounded?" Elsa asked. Thought I knew she wasn't really surprised, I couldn't detect any false note to the sudden excitement in her voice.

"Conditionally," David corrected. "Why do you ask?"

I raised an unpleased eyebrow at my dad, but he didn't see.

"It's just good to know," Elsa said. "Alice has been itching for a shopping partner, and I'm sure Anna would love to see some city lights." She smiled at me.

But David's face went pale, "Absolutely not!"

"Dad? What's the matter?"

David looked at me, very serious. "I don't want you going to Seattle right now, Anna."

"Huh?"

"I told you about the story in the paper—there's some kind of gang on a killing spree in Seattle and I want you to steer clear, okay?"

"Oh," I considered this. "I mean, I'm pretty sure there's a better chance that I'll get struck by lightning than that the one day I'm in Seattle—"

"No, that's fine, David," Elsa said, interrupting me. "I didn't mean Seattle. Alice was thinking a trip to Portland, actually. Besides, I wouldn't have Anna in Seattle, either. Of course not."

I looked at her curiously, but she had David's newspaper in her hands and she was reading the front page intently.

She must have been trying to appease my father. The idea of being in danger from even the deadliest of humans while I was with Alice or Elsa was downright hilarious.

It worked though. David stared at Elsa for one second more, and then shrugged. "Okay, then." He hurried off toward the living room—I imagined he didn't want to miss tip-off.

I waited till the TV was on, so that David wouldn't be able to hear me.

"What—," I started to ask.

"Hold on, love," Elsa said without looking up from the paper. Her eyes stayed focused on the page as she pushed the first application toward me across the table. "I think you can recycle your essays for this one. Same questions."

David must still be listening. I sighed and started to fill out the repetitive information: name, address, social… after a few minutes I glanced up, but Elsa was now staring pensively out the window. As I bent my head back to my work, I noticed for the first time the name of the school.

I snorted and moved the papers aside.

"Anna?"

"Be serious, Elsa.Dartmouth?"

Elsa lifted the discarded application and laid it gently in front of me again. "I think you'd like New Hampshire," she said. "There's a full complement of night courses for me, and the forests are very conveniently located for the avid hiker. Plentiful wildlife." She pulled out the crooked smile she knew I couldn't resist.

I sighed.

"I'll let you pay me back, if that makes you happy," she promised. "If you want, I can charge you interest."

"Elsa, I couldn't even get in to Dartmouth without some enormous bribe. Or was that part of the loan? The new Cullen wing of the library?"

"Will you just fill out the application, please, Anna? It won't hurt you to apply."

I pouted and dramatically rubbed my wrist. "I think it just might."

She rolled her eyes at me, but I could see a smirk dancing on the edges of her mouth.

I sighed, and turned my attention back to the stack, grumbling, "Can't I do these online or something?"

I reached for the papers, but they were already gone. I stared at the empty table for a moment, and then at Elsa. She didn't appear to have moved, but the applications were probably around tucked away in her jacket.

"What are you doing?" My brows furrowed in confusion.

"I sign your name better than you do yourself. You've already written the essays."

"If this is an attempt to win you points by sparing me from filling out all these applications…" I narrowed my eyes at her. "…It's working."

She smiled her crooked smile again.

"But, honestly, Elsa, I don't really need to apply anywhere else. I've been accepted in Alaska. I can almost afford the first semester's tuition. It's far away, and everything…"

A pained look tightened her face. "Anna—"

"Don't start. I'd love to go somewhere else, Elsa. But if the… If we need to go into hiding, I want to be as far away from Forks as possible. If I'm already supposed to be in Alaska, it will make it easier for everyone if they haven't seen me as much to begin with. Plus, we'd be able to go stay with your cousins in Denali in a… worst case scenario…" I trailed off.

"Anna, don't you want a full,humancollege experience?" Elsa's eyes were pained as she asked me.

"I'd love it," I replied. "But we have to have plans in place, Elsa. It's just too dangerous to mess around with."

"There's no danger yet," she insisted.

I sighed in frustration. No danger? Sure. I only had a sadistic vampire trying to avenge her mate's death with my own, preferably through some slow and tortuous method. Who was worried about Gerda? And, oh yeah, the Volturi—the vampire royal family with their small army of vampire warriors—who insisted that my heart stop beating one way or another in the near future, because humans weren't allowed to know they existed. Right. No reason to panic.

Even with Alice keeping watch—Elsa relying on her uncannily accurate visions of the future to give us advance warning—it was insane to take chances.

Going to Alaska was the safest, smartest move I could think of. Either I went to college in a state where Elsa could stay by my side and protect me—far away from Forks and the people I loved—or if we couldn't run, she could change me and we could stay with her cousins in Denali for a while.

A sharp jolt of unease pierced my stomach as I realized how short time really was. Especially if the worstdidhappen and Elsadidhave to change me. Of course, there was no other choice—I couldn't stay in Forks, I couldn't put anyone at risk by being here much longer—but I was deeply conscious of David sitting in the other room enjoying his game, just like every other night. And my mother, Renée, far away in sunny Florida still pleading with me to spend the summer on the beach with her and her new husband. And Kristoff, who, unlike my parents, would suspect the worst when I disappeared to some distant school. Even if my parents didn't grow suspicious for a long time, even if I could put off visits with excuses about travel expenses or study loads or illnesses, Kristoff would know the truth.

For a moment, the idea of Kristoff's certain revulsion overshadowed every other pain.

"Anna," Elsa murmured, her face twisting when she read the distress in mine. "There's no hurry. I won't let anyone hurt you. You can take all the time you need."

"Who needs time," I whispered, smiling weakly, trying to make a joke of it. "Just make me a monster, already."

Her teeth clenched; she spoke through them. "You have no idea what you're saying." Abruptly, she flung the damp newspaper onto the table between us. Her finger stabbed the headline on the front page.

DEATH TOLL ON THE RISE,

POLICE FEAR GANG ACTIVITY

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"Monsters are not a joke, Anna."

I stared at the headline again, and then up to her hard expression. "A… avampireis doing this?" I whispered.

She smiled without humor. Her voice was low and cold. "You'd be surprised, Anna, at how often my kind are the source behind the horrors in your human news. It's easy to recognize, when you know what to look for. The information here indicates a newborn vampire is loose in Seattle. Bloodthirsty, wild, out of control. The way we all are."

I let my gaze drop to the paper again, avoiding her eyes.

"We've been monitoring the situation for a few weeks. All the signs are there—the unlikely disappearances, always in the night, the poorly disposed of corpses, the lack of other evidence… Yes, someone brand-new. And no one seems to be taking responsibility for the neophyte…" She took a deep breath. "Well, it's not our problem. We wouldn't even pay attention to the situation if it wasn't going on so close to home. Like I said, this happens all the time. The existence of monsters results in monstrous consequences."

I tried not to see the names on the page, but they jumped out from the rest of the print like they were in bold. The five people whose lives were over, whose families were in mourning now. It was different from considering murder in the abstract, reading those names. Maureen Gardiner, Geoffrey Campbell, Grace Razi, Michele O'Connell, Ronald Albrook. People who'd had parents and children and friends and pets and jobs and hopes and plans and memories and futures…

"If it comes to that, it won't be the same for me," I whispered, half to myself. "You won't let me be like that. We'll live in Antarctica."

Elsa snorted, breaking the tension. "Penguins. Lovely."

I laughed then, sliding the paper away so I wouldn't have to see those names anymore. Of course, Elsa would consider the hunting possibilities. She and her "vegetarian" family—all committed to protecting human life—preferred the flavor of large predators for satisfying their dietary needs. "Alaska, then, as planned. Only somewhere much more remote than Juneau—somewhere with grizzlies galore."

"Better," she allowed. "There are polar bears, too. Very fierce. And the wolves get quite large."

My mouth fell open and my breath blew out in a sharp gust.

"What's wrong?" She asked. Before I could recover, the confusion vanished and her whole body seemed to harden. "Oh. Never mind the wolves, then, if the idea is offensive to you." Her voice was stiff, formal, her shoulders rigid.

"He was my best friend, Elsa," I muttered. It stung to use the past tense. "Of course the idea offends me."

"Please forgive my thoughtlessness," she said, still very formal. "I shouldn't have suggested that."

"Don't worry about it." I stared at my hands, clenched into a double fist on the table.

We were both silent for a moment, and then her cool finger was under my chin, coaxing my face up. Her expression was much softer now.

"Sorry. Really."

"I know. I know it's not the same thing. I shouldn't have reacted that way. It's just that… well, I was already thinking about Kristoff before you came over." I hesitated. Her tawny eyes seemed to get a little darker whenever I said Kristoff's name. My voice turned pleading in response. "David says Kristoff is having a hard time. He's hurting right now, and… it's my fault."

"You've done nothing wrong, Anna."

I took a deep breath. "I need to make it better, Elsa. I have to. I owe him that. And it's one of David's conditions anyway—"

Her face changed while I spoke, turning hard again, statue-like.

"You know it's out of the question for you to be around a werewolf unprotected, Anna. And it would break the treaty if any of us cross over onto their land. Do you want us to start a war?"

"Of course not!"

"Then there's really no point in discussing the matter further." She dropped her hand and looked away, searching for a subject change. Her eyes paused on something behind me, and she smiled, though her eyes stayed wary.

"I'm glad David had decided to let you out—you're sadly in need of a visit to the bookstore. I can't believe you're readingWuthering Heightsagain. Don't you know it by heart yet?"

"Not all of us have photographic memories," I shrugged.

"Photographic memory or not, I don't understand why you like it. The characters are ghastly people who ruin each other's lives. I don't know how Heathcliff and Cathy ended up being ranked with couples like Romeo and Juliet or Elizabeth Bennet and Mr. Darcy. It isn't a love story, it's a hate story."

"You have some serious issues with the classics," I muttered.

"Perhaps it's because I'm not impressed by antiquity." She smiled, evidently satisfied that she'd distracted me. "Honestly, though, whydoyou read it over and over?" Her eyes were vivid with real interest now, trying—again—to unravel the workings of my mind. She reached across the table to cradle my face in her hand. "What is it that appeals to you?"

Her sincere curiosity disarmed me. "I'm not sure," I said, searching my brain for reasons. "I think it's something about the inevitability. How nothing can keep them apart—not her selfishness, or his evil, or even death, in the end…"

Her face was thoughtful as she considered my words. After a moment she smiled a teasing smile. "I still think it would be a better story if either of them had a redeeming quality."

"I think that may be the point," I disagreed. "Their loveistheir only redeeming quality."

"I hope you have better sense that that—to fall in love with someone so… malignant."

"It's a bit late for me to worry about who I fall in love with," I pointed out. "But even without the warning, I seem to have managed fairly well."

She laughed quietly. "I'm gladyouthink so."

"Well, I hope you're smart enough to stay away from someone so selfish. Catherine is really the source of all the trouble, not Heathcliff."

"I'll be on my guard," she promised.

I sighed. She was so good at distractions.

I put my hand over hers to hold it to my face. "I need to see Kristoff."

Her eyes closed. "No."

"It's really not dangerous at all," I said, insisting. "I used to spend all day in La Push with the whole lot of them, and nothing ever happened."

But I made a slip; my voice faltered at the end because I realized as I was saying the words that they were a lie. It was not true thatnothinghad happened. A brief flash of memory—an enormous gray wolf crouched to spring, baring his dagger-like teeth at me—had my palms sweating with an echo of remembered panic.

Elsa heard my heart accelerate and nodded as if I'd acknowledged the lie aloud. "Werewolves are unstable. Sometimes, the people near them get hurt. Sometimes, they get killed."

I wanted to deny it, but another image slowed my rebuttal. I saw in my head the once beautiful face of Emily Young, now marred by a trio of dark scars that dragged down the corner of her right eye and left her mouth warped forever into a lopsided scowl.

She waited, grimly triumphant, for me to find my voice.

"You don't know them," I finally said.

"I know them better than you think, Anna. I was here the last time."

"The last time?"

"We started crossing paths with the wolves about seventy years ago… We had just settled near Hoquiam. That was before Alice and Jasper were with us. We outnumbered them, but that wouldn't have stopped it from turning into a fight if not for Carlisle. He managed to convince Ephraim Black that coexisting was possible, and eventually we made the truce."

Kristoff's great-grandfather's name startled me.

"We thought the line had died out with Ephraim," Elsa muttered; it sounded like she was talking to herself now. "That the genetic quirk which allowed the transmutation had been lost…" She broke off and stared at me accusingly. "Your bad luck seems to get more potent every day. Do you realize that your insatiable pull for all things deadly was strong enough to recover a pack of mutant canines from extinction? If we could bottle your bad luck, we'd have a weapon of mass destruction on our hands."

I ignored the ribbing, my attention caught by her assumption—was she serious? "ButIdidn't bring them back. Don't you know?"

"Know what?"

"My bad luck had nothing to do with it. The werewolves came back because the vampires did."

Elsa stared at me, her body motionless with surprise.

"Kristoff told me that your family being here set things in motion. I thought you would already know…"

Her eyes narrowed. "Is that what they think?"

"Elsa, look at the facts. Seventy years ago, you came here, and the werewolves showed up. You come back now, and the werewolves show up again. Do you think that's a coincidence?"

She blinked and her glare relaxed. "Carlisle will be interested in that theory."

"Theory," I scoffed.

She was silent for a moment, staring out the window into the rain; I imagined she was contemplating the fact that her family's presence was turning the locals into giant dogs.

"Interesting, but not exactly relevant," she murmured after a moment. "The situation remains the same."

I could translate that easily enough: no werewolf friends.

I knew I had to try and be patient with Elsa. It wasn't that she was completely unreasonable—prone to taking things to extremes, sure—but not unreasonable. The problem was that she didn'tunderstand. She had no idea how very much I owed to Kristoff Black—my life many times over, and possibly my sanity, too. Perhaps the love between Kristoff and I was lost now, but I'd be damned if I didn't go to help my friend when he was in a bad place, just like he had done for me.

I didn't like to talk about that time with anyone anymore, and especially not Elsa.She had only been trying to save me when she'd left, trying to save my soul. I couldn't condone how she had gone about it, and she still had a lot of making up to do. But I, at least, was doing my best to forgive her.

She wouldn't forgive herself.

So I would have to word my explanation very carefully.

I got up and walked around the table. She opened her arms for me and I sat on her lap, resting into her cool stone embrace. I ran my hand through her hair and looked her straight in the eyes while I spoke.

"Please just listen to me for a minute. This is so much more important than some whim to drop in on an old friend. Kristoff is inpain." My voice distorted around the word. "I can'tnottry to help him—I can't give up on him now, when he needs me. Just because he's not human all the time… Well, he was there for me when I was… not feeling so human myself. You don't know what it was like…" I hesitated. Elsa's eyes closed and her arms were rigid around me; her hands were in fists now, the tendons standing out. "If Kristoff hadn't helped me… I wouldn't be where I am today. I owe him better than this, Elsa."

I watched her face warily. Her eyes were still closed, and her jaw was strained.

"I'll never forgive myself for leaving you," she whispered. "Not if I live a hundred thousand years."

I put my hand against her cold face and waited until she sighed and opened her eyes.

"I was really hoping you had learned your lesson about taking things to extremes." I kissed her on the forehead. "You thought you were doing the right thing, even if it was a really awful way of doing it." I ran my hand through her hair again. "Besides, you're here now. You're sorry, and you're trying to make up for it. That's the part that matters."

"If I'd never left, you wouldn't feel the need to go risk your life to comfort adog."

I flinched. I was used to Kristoff had all his derogatory slurs—bloodsucker, leach, parasite… Somehow it sounded harsher in Elsa's velvet voice.

"I don't know how to phrase this properly," Elsa said, and her tone was bleak. "It's going to sound cruel, I suppose. But I've come too close to losing you in the past. I know what it feels like to think I have. I amnotgoing to tolerate anything dangerous."

"You have to trust me on this. I'll be fine."

Her face was pained again. "Please, Anna," she whispered.

I stared into her suddenly burning golden eyes. "Please what?"

"Please, for me. Please make a conscious effort to keep yourself safe. I'll do everything I can, but I would appreciate a little help."

"I'll work on it," I murmured.

"Do you really have any idea how important you are to me? Any concept of how much I love you?" She pulled me tighter against her hard chest, tucking my head under her chin.

I pressed my lips against her snow-cold neck. "I know how muchIloveyou," I answered.

"You compare one small tree to the entire forest."

I rolled my eyes, but she couldn't see. "Ha."

She kissed the top of my head and sighed.

"No werewolves."

"No deal. I'm not going along with that. I have to see Kristoff."

"Then I'll have to stop you."

She sounded utterly confident that this wouldn't be a problem.

I was worried she was right.

"We'll see about that," I said anyway. "He's still my friend."

I could feel Kristoff's note in my pocket, like it suddenly weighed ten pounds. I could hear the words in his voice, and he seemed to be agreeing with Elsa—something that would never happen in reality.

Doesn't change anything. Sorry.

 **reviews? what's your thoughts so far**


	2. vision

I felt oddly buoyant as I walked from Spanish toward the cafeteria, and it wasn't just because I was holding hands with my beautiful girlfriend, though that was certainly part of it.

Maybe it was the knowledge that my sentence was served and I was a free woman again.

Or maybe it wasn't anything to do with me to do with me specifically. Maybe it was the atmosphere of freedom that hung over the entire campus. School was winding down, and, for the senior class especially, there was a perceptible thrill in the air.

Freedom was so close it was touchable, taste-able. Signs of it were everywhere. Posters crowded together on the cafeteria walls, and the trashcans wore a colorful skirt of spilled-over fliers: reminders to buy yearbooks, class rings, and announcements; deadlines to order graduation gowns, hats, and tassels; neon-bright sales pitches—the juniors campaigning for class office; ominous, rose-wreathed advertisements for this year's prom. The big dance was this coming weekend, but I had an ironclad promise from Elsa that I would not be subjected to that again. After all, I'd already hadthathuman experience.

No, it must be my personal freedom that lightened me today. The ending of the school year did not give me the pleasure it seemed to give the other students. Actually, I felt nervous to the point of nausea whenever I thought of it. I tried tonotthink of it.

But it was hard to escape such an omnipresent topic as graduation.

"This speech is kicking my butt." Jeremy whined, crumpling up a piece of paper and shoving it aside. "It's gotta be good."

"Don't worry, Jeremy," I laughed as Elsa and I sat down at the table, "It'll be epic."

"Epic?" He raised a playful eyebrow, "It'll change lives."

Jeremy was class valedictorian. His excitement over that fact had dwindled into stress and dread once he started trying to write his speech. He had gone through a ridiculous number of drafts in the last few days alone.

"Have you sent your announcements, yet?" Angela asked. She had her light brown hair pulled back into a sloppy ponytail instead of her usual smooth hairdo, and there was a slightly frantic look about her eyes.

Alice and Ben were already there too, on either side of Angela. Ben was intent over a comic book, his glasses sliding down his narrow nose. Alice was scrutinizing my boring jeans-and-a-t-shirt outfit in a way that made me feel self-conscious. Probably plotting another makeover. I sighed. My indifferent attitude to fashion was a constant thorn in her side. If I'd allow it, she'd love to dress me every day—perhaps several times a day—like some oversized three-dimensional paper doll.

"No," I answered Angela. "There's no point, really. Renée knows when I'm graduating. Who else is there?"

"How about you, Jeremy?" Angela glanced at her.

"Huh?" Jeremy looked up from his notebook. "Oh, yeah, I'm almost done."

"And you, Alice?"

Alice smiled. "All done."

"Lucky you." Angela sighed. "My mother has a thousand cousins and she expects me to hand-address one to everybody. I'm going to get carpal tunnel. I can't put it off any longer and I'm just dreading it."

"I'll help you," I volunteered. "If you don't mind my awful handwriting."

David would like that. From the corner of my eye, I saw Elsa smile. She must like that, too—me fulfilling Charlie's conditions without involving werewolves.

Angela looked relieved. "That's so nice of you. I'll come over any time you want."

"Actually, I'd rather go to your house if that's okay—I'm sick of mine. David un-grounded me last night." I grinned as I announced the good news.

"Really?" Angela asked, mild excitement lighting her always-gentle brown eyes.

"Wait, what?" Jeremy blinked up in surprise. "Why did you not text me immediately and tell me this, Winters?"

I laughed. "Sorry, Jeremy."

"I thought you said you were in it for life?" Angela said.

"I'm more surprised than you guys are. I was sure I would at least have finished high school before he set me free."

"Well, this is great, Anna! We'll have to go out to celebrate." Angela laughed.

"Oh, my god!" Jeremy squealed. "Friends' night!Seniorfriends' night!"

"You have no idea how good that sounds."

"What should we do?" Alice mused, her face lighting up at the possibilities. Alice's ideas were usually a little grandiose for me, and I could see it in her eyes now—the tendency to take things too far kicking into action.

"Whatever you're thinking, Alice," I raised my eyebrow, "I doubt I'mthatfree."

"Free is free, right?" she insisted.

"I'm sure I still have boundaries—like the continental U.S., for example."

Angela, Ben, and Jeremy laughed, but Alice grimaced in real disappointment.

"So what are we doing tonight?" she persisted.

"Nothing. Look, let's give it a couple days to make sure David wasn't joking. It's a school night, anyway."

"We'll celebrate this weekend, then." Alice's enthusiasm was impossible to repress.

"Sure, sure," I said, hoping to placate her. I knew I wasn't going to do anything too outlandish; it would be safer to take it slow with David. Give him a chance to appreciate how trustworthy and mature I was before I asked for any favors.

Angela and Alice started talking about options; Jeremy joined the conversation, setting her speech aside. Ben smiled at their enthusiasm from his comic book. My attention drifted. I was surprised to find that the subject of my freedom was suddenly not as gratifying as it had been just a moment ago. While they discussed things to do in Port Angeles or maybe Hoquiam, I began to feel disgruntled.

It didn't take long to determine where my restlessness stemmed from.

Ever since I'd said goodbye to Kristoff Black in the forest outside my home, I'd been plagued by a persistent, uncomfortable intrusion of a specific mental picture. It popped into my thoughts at regular intervals like some annoying alarm clock set to sound every half hour, filling my head with the image Kristoff's face crumpled in pain. That was the last memory I had of him.

As the disturbing vision struck again, I knew exactly why I was dissatisfied with my liberty. Because it was incomplete.

Sure, I was free to go anywhere I wanted—except La Push; free to do anything I wanted—except see Kristoff. I frowned at the table. Therehadto be some kind of middle ground.

"Alice? Alice!"

Angela's voice yanked me from my reverie. She was waving her hand back and forth in front of Alice's blank, staring face. Alice's expression was something I recognized—an expression that sent an automatic shock of panic through my body. The vacant look in her eyes told me that she was seeing something very different from the mundane lunchroom scene that surrounded us, but something that was every bit as real in its own way. Something that was coming, something that would happen soon. I felt the blood slither from my face.

Then Elsa laughed, a very natural, relaxed sound. Angela and Jeremy looked toward her, but my eyes were locked on Alice. She jumped suddenly, as if someone had kicked her under the table.

"Is it nap-time already, Alice?" Elsa teased

Alice was herself again. "Sorry, I was daydreaming, I guess."

Alice threw herself back into the conversation with more animation than before—just a little bit too much. Once I saw her lock eyes with Elsa's, only for a moment, and then she looked back to Angela and Jeremy before anyone else noticed. Elsa was quiet, absentmindedly rubbing my neck.

I waited anxiously for a chance to ask Elsa what Alice had seen in her vision, but the afternoon passed without one minute of alone time.

It felt odd to me, almost deliberate. After lunch, Elsa slowed her pace to match Ben's, talking about some assignment I knew she'd already finished. Then there was always someone else there between classes, though we usually had a few minutes to ourselves. When the final bell rang, Elsa struck up a conversation with Makayla Newton of all people, falling into step beside her as Makayla headed for the parking lot. I trailed behind, letting Elsa tow me along.

I listened confused, while Makayla answered Elsa's unusually friendly queries. It seemed Makayla was having car troubles.

"…but I just replaced the battery," Makayla was saying. Her eyes darted ahead and then back to Elsa warily. Mystified, just like I was.

"Perhaps it's the cables?" Elsa offered.

"Maybe. I don't really know anything about cars," Makayla admitted. "I need to have someone look at it, but I can't afford to take it to Dowling's."

I opened my mouth to suggest my mechanic, and then snapped it shut again. My mechanic was busy these days—busy running around as a giant wolf.

"I know a few things—I could take a look, if you like," Elsa offered. "Just let me drop Alice and Anna at home."

Makayla and I both stared at Elsa with our mouths hanging open.

"Er… thanks," Makayla mumbled when she recovered. "But I have to get to work. Maybe some other time."

"Absolutely."

"See ya." Makayla climbed into her car, shaking her head in disbelief.

Elsa's Volvo, with Alice already inside, was just two cars away.

"What wasthatabout?" I muttered as Elsa held the passenger door for me.

"Just being helpful," Elsa answered.

And then Alice, waiting in the backseat, was babbling at top speed.

"You're really notthatgood a mechanic, Elsa. Maybe you should have Royal take a look at it tonight, just so you look good if Makayla decides to let you help, you know. Not that it wouldn't be fun to watch her face ifRoyalshowed up to help. But since Royal is supposed to be across the country attending college, I guess that's not the best idea. Too bad. Though I suppose, for Makayla's car, you'll do. It's only within the finer tunings of a good Italian sports car that you're out of your depth. And speaking of Italy and sports cars that I stole there, you still owe me a yellow Porsche. I don't know that I want to wait for Christmas…"

I stopped listening after a minute, letting her quick voice become just a hum in the background as I settled into my patient mode.

It looked like Elsa was trying to avoid my questions. Fine. She would have to be alone with me soon enough. It was only a matter of time.

Elsa seemed to realize that, too. She dropped Alice off at the mouth of the Cullens' drive as usual, though by this point I half expected her to drive her to the door and walk her in.

As she got out, Alice threw a sharp look at her face. Elsa seemed completely at ease.

"See you later," she said. And then, ever so slightly, she nodded.

Alice turned to disappear into the trees.

She was quiet as she turned the car around and headed back to Forks. I waited, wondering if she would bring it up herself. She didn't, and this made me tense. WhathadAlice seen today at lunch? Something she didn't want to tell me, and I tried to think of a reason why she would keep secrets. Maybe it would be better to prepare myself before I asked her. I didn't want to freak out and have her think I couldn't handle it, whatever it was.

So we were both silent until we got back to my house.

"Light homework load tonight," she commented.

"Mmm," I assented.

"Do you suppose I'm allowed inside again?"

"David didn't try and kick you out when you picked me up for school."

But I was sure David was going to be less than pleased when he got home and found Elsa here. Maybe I should make something extra-special for dinner.

Inside, I headed up the stairs, and Elsa followed. She lounged on my bed and gazed out the window, seeming oblivious to my edginess.

I stowed by backpack and turned my laptop on. There was an unanswered email from my mom to attend to, and she got panicky when I took too long. I drummed my fingers as I waited for the laptop to boot up and load my emails; my fingers snapped against the desk, staccato and anxious.

And then her fingers were on mine, holding them still.

"Are we a little impatient today?" she murmured.

I looked up, intending to make a sarcastic remark, but her face was closer than I'd expected. Her golden eyes were smoldering, just inches away, and her breath was cool against my open lips.

I couldn't remember the witty response I'd been about to make and she didn't give me a chance to recover.

Kissing Elsa was always an incomparable experience. Never in my life had I felt anything like her cool lips, marble hard but always so gentle, moving with mine.

Usually our kisses were controlled, careful.

So it surprised me a little when her fingers braided themselves into my hair, securing my face to hers. My arms wrapped around her neck, locking behind her. One hand slid down my back, pressing me tighter against her stone chest. Even through her sweater, her skin was cold enough to make me shiver—it was a shiver of pleasure, of happiness, and her hands tightened in response.

I was feeling a little adventurous today, and decided to try something new. I knew I'd have only a few seconds before she would sigh and slide me deftly away, saying something about how we'd risked my life enough for one afternoon. So I crushed myself closer, molding myself to the shape of her. Her hand slide further down from my back, to grip the back of my thigh. I smirked and made my move. The tip of my tongue traced the curve of her lower lip; it was flawlessly smooth as if it had been polished.

She let out a breathless moan, and pulled my face away from hers. She was panting as she stared at me, I could only smile.

She chuckled once, a low, throaty sound. Her eyes were bright with the excitement she so rigidly disciplined.

"Ah, Anna." She breathed.

"I'd say I'm sorry, but I'm not."

"And I should feel sorry that you're not sorry, but I don't." She paused and closed her eyes. "Maybe I should go sit on the bed."

I exhaled with satisfaction. "If you think that's necessary…"

She smiled crookedly and gently released her hold on me.

I ran my hands through my hair and breathed out a sigh as she moved fluidly to the bed. I turned back to my ignored computer.

"Tell Renée I said hello."

"Sure thing."

I scanned through my mom's email, shaking my head now and then at some of the sillier things she had done. I was just as entertained and horrified as the first time I'd read this. It was so like my mother to forget exactly how paralyzed she was by heights until she was already strapped to a parachute and a dive instructor. I felt a little frustrated with Phil, her husband of almost two years, for allowing that one. I would have warned her against such an adventure. I knew her better than that.

I had to chuckle at the strange way my mother and I had taken care of each other.

I'd spent most of my life guiding her away from her craziest plans and good-naturedly enduring the ones I couldn't talk her out of. Whileshehad always taught me to be kind, selfless, and open to what the world brought you.

I had to thank my mother for that; it had made me who I was today. Someone thoughtful and cautious. It had made me responsible; learning from her lessons and her mistakes.

With the blood still pounding from Elsa's kiss, I couldn't help but think of my mother's most life-altering mistake. Silly and romantic, getting married fresh out of high school to a man she barely knew, then having me a year later. She'd always promised me that she had no regrets, that I was the best gift her life had ever given her. And yet she'd drilled it into me over and over—smart people took marriage seriously. Mature people went to college and started careers before they got deeply involved in a relationship. She knew I would never be as thoughtless and goofy andsmall-townas she'd been…

I gritted my teeth and tried to concentrate as I answered her email.

Then I hit her parting line and remembered why I'd neglected to write sooner.

You haven't said anything about Kristoff in a long time, she'd written.What's he up to these days?

I couldn't help but think David was prompting her.

I sighed and typed quickly, tucking the answer to her question between two less sensitive paragraphs.

Krustoff is fine, I guess. I don't see him much; he spends most of his time with a pack of his friends down at La Push these days.

Smiling wryly to myself, I added Elsa's greeting and hit "send."

I didn't realize Elsa was standing silently behind me again until after I'd turned off the laptop and shoved away from my desk. I was about to scold her for reading over my shoulder when I realized that she wasn't paying attention to me. She was examining a stiff rectangle of paper in her hands.

"You didn't get much use out of your birthday presents last year," she said in a disgruntled voice. She started fanning herself with the paper.

I didn't answer right away. My disastrous eighteenth birthday—with all its far-reaching consequences—wasn't something I cared to remember, and I was surprised that she would bring it up. She was even more sensitive about it than I was.

"I use the stereo in my car from Emmett, Royal, and Jasper. I love it." I offered defensively.

"Alright," she said, "but do you realize these are about to expire?" she asked, holding the paper out to me. It was another present—the voucher for airplane tickets that Esme and Carlisle had given me so that I could visit Renée in Florida.

I sighed, and answered honestly. "No. I'd forgotten all about them, actually."

Her expression was carefully bright and positive; there was no trace of any deep emotion as she continued. "Well, we still have a little time. You've been liberated… and we have no plans this weekend, as you refuse to go to prom with me." She grinned. "Why not celebrate your freedom this way?"

I laughed. "By going to Florida?"

"You did say something about the continental U.S. being allowable."

I glared at her, suspicious, trying to understand where this had come from.

"Well?" she demanded. "Are we going to see Renée or not?"

"David will never allow it."

"David can't keep you from visiting your mother. She still has primary custody."

"Nobody has custody of me. I'm an adult."

She flashed her brilliant smile. "Exactly."

I thought it over for a short minute before deciding that it wasn't worth the fight. David wouldn't be happy—not that I was going to see my mom, but that Elsa was going with me. David would probably rescind my freedom just to keep it from happening. It was definitely smarter to not even bring it up. Maybe in a few weeks, as a graduation favor or something.

But the idea of seeing my mothernow, not weeks from now, was hard to resist. It had been so long since I'd seen her. And even longer since I'd seen her under pleasant circumstances. The last time I'd been with her in Phoenix, I'd spent the whole time in a hospital bed. The last time she'd come here, I'd been severely depressed. Not exactly the best memories to have.

And maybe, if she got to know Elsa better, she would tell David to ease up.

Elsa scrutinized my face while I deliberated.

I sighed. "Not this weekend."

"Why not?"

"I don't want to fight with David. Not so soon after he's forgiven me."

Her eyebrows pulled together. "I think this weekend is perfect," she muttered.

I shook my head. "Another time."

"You aren't the only one who's been trapped in this house, you know." She frowned at me.

Suspicion returned. This kind of behavior was unlike her. She was always so impossibly selfless; eager to make me happy.

"You can go anywhere you want," I pointed out.

"The outside world holds no interest for me without you."

I rolled my eyes at the hyperbole.

"I'm serious," she said.

"Let's take the outside world slowly, all right? For example, we could start with a movie in Port Angeles…"

She groaned. "Never mind. We'll talk about it later."

"There's nothing left to talk about."

She shrugged.

"Okay, then, new subject," I said. I'd almost forgotten my worries about this afternoon—had that been her intention? "What did Alice see today at lunch?"

My eyes were fixed on her face as I spoke, measuring her reaction.

Her expression was composed; there was only the slightest hardening of her topaz eyes. "She's been seeing Jasper in a strange place, somewhere in the southeast, she thinks, near his former… family. But he has no conscious intentions to go back." She sighed. "It's got her worried."

"Oh." That was nothing close to what I'd been expecting. But of course it made sense that Alice would be watching out for Jasper's future. He was her soul mate, her true other half, though they weren't as flamboyant about their relationship as Royal and Emmett were. "Why didn't you tell me before?"

"I didn't realize you'd noticed," she said. "It's probably nothing important, in any case."

I wondered if my imagination was just getting out of control. I'd been convinced Elsa was going out of her way to keep something from me, when there was nothing wrong.

We went downstairs to work on our homework, just in case David showed up early. Elsa finished in minutes; I slogged laboriously through my calculus until I decided it was time to fix David's dinner. Elsa helped, making faces every so often at the raw ingredients—human food was mildly repulsive to her. I made stroganoff from Grandma winters's recipe, because I was sucking up. It wasn't one of my favorites, but it would please David.

David seemed to already be in a good mood when he got home. His mood didn't even falter when he said hello Elsa. Elsa excused herself from eating with us, as usual. The sound of the nightly news drifted from the front room, but I doubted Elsa was really watching.

After forcing down three helpings, David kicked up his feet on the spare chair and folded his hands contentedly across his distended stomach.

"That was great, kiddo."

"I'm glad you liked it. How was work?" He'd been eating with too much concentration for me to make conversation before.

"Sort of slow. Well, dead slow really. Mark and I played cards for a good part of the afternoon," he admitted with a grin. "I won, nineteen hands to seven. And then I was on the phone with Billy for a while."

I tried to keep my expression even. "How is he?"

"Good, good. His joints are bothering him a little."

"Oh. That's too bad."

"Yeah. He invited us down to visit this weekend. He was thinking of having the Clearwaters and the Uleys over to. Sort of a playoff party…"

"Huh," was my genius response. But what could I say? I knew Elsa would throw a fit at the idea of me hitting up a werewolf party, even with parental supervision. I wondered if Elsa would have a problem with David hanging out in La Push. Or would she suppose that, since David was mostly spending time with Billy, who was only human, my father wouldn't be in danger?

I got up and piled the dishes together without looking at David. I dumped them into the sink and started the water. Elsa appeared silently and grabbed a dishtowel.

David sighed and gave up for a moment, though I imagined he would revisit the subject when we were alone again. He heaved himself to his feet and headed for the TV, just like every other night.

"David," Elsa said in a conversational tone.

David stopped in the middle of the little kitchen. "Yeah?"

"Did Anna ever tell you that my parents gave her airplane tickets on her last birthday, so that she could visit Renée?"

I dropped the plate I was scrubbing. It glanced off the counter and clattered noisily to the floor. It didn't break, but it spattered the room, and all three of us, with soapy water. David didn't even seem to notice.

"Anna?" he asked in a stunned voice.

I kept my eyes on the plate as I retrieved it. "Yeah, they did."

David shifted uncomfortably, "Well, that was… generous." He said, awkwardly. He turned to Elsa and narrowed his eyes. "No,Anna never mentioned it."

"Hmm," Elsa murmured.

"Was there a reason you brought it up?" David asked, suspicious.

Elsa shrugged. "They're about to expire. I think it might hurt Esme's feelings if Anna doesn't use her gift. Not that she'd say anything."

I stared at Elsa in disbelief.

David thought for a minute. "It's probably a good idea for you to visit your mom, Anna. She'd love that. I'm surprised you didn't say anything about this, though."

"I forgot," I admitted.

He frowned. "You forgot that someone gave you plane tickets?"

"Mmm," I murmured vaguely and turned back to the sink.

"I noticed you saidthey'reabout to expire, Elsa," David went on. "How many tickets did you parents give her?"

"Just one for Anna… and one for me."

The plate I dropped this time landed in the sink, so it didn't make as much noise. I could easily hear the sharp huff as my father exhaled. The blood rushed into my face, fueled by irritation and chagrin. Why was Elsa doing this? I glared at the bubbles in the sink, panicking.

"I don't think that's a good idea." David said, his face serious and angry.

"Why?" Elsa asked, her voice saturated with innocent surprise. "You just said it was a good idea of her to see her mother."

David ignored her. "I don't want you going anywhere with her, young lady!" He said to me. I spun around and his arms were crossed angrily over his chest.

"Dad, come on," I pleaded, "I'm not a child! And I'm not grounded anymore, remember?"

"Oh yes, you are. Starting now."

"For what?!"

"Because I said so."

"Dad, please, you're being unreasonable. I'm a legal adult."

"This is my house, so it's my rules!"

I glared at him. "Dad, I'll do my time without complaining when I've done something wrong. But I didn't do anything to deserve this."

He narrowed his eyes, but held his ground.

"Now, I know thatyouknow I have every right to see Mom for the weekend. You can't honestly tell me you'd object to the plan if I was going with Alice, Jeremy, or Angela."

"I wouldn't. But they're just your… friends." He grunted awkwardly.

"Would if bother you if I took Kristoff?"

I'd only picked the name because I knew of my father's preference for Kristoff, but I quickly wished I hadn't; Elsa's teeth clenched together with an audible snap.

My father struggled to compose himself before he answered. "Yes," he said in an unconvincing voice. "That would bother me."

"You're as bad of a liar as I am, Dad."

"Anna—"

"It's not like I'm headed off to Vegas to gamble my college fund away. I'm going to seeMom," I reminded him. "She's just as much my parental authority as you are."

He threw me a withering look.

"I don't think she'd appreciate it if she knew you didn't trust her to keep an eye on Elsa and me."

David flinched, "Okay, okay," he sighed. "Don't say anything like that to her."

"I'm not going to, Dad. But come on, you've got to trust me."

He huffed. "I'm not happy about this, Anna."

"You don't need to be upset, Dad."

He averted his eyes, I could tell the storm was over.

I turned to pull the plug out of the sink. "So my homework is done, your dinner is done, the dishes are done, and I'm not grounded. I'm going out. I'll be back before ten-thirty."

"Where are you going?" His face, almost back to normal, flashed with anger again.

"I'm not sure," I admitted. "I'll keep it within a ten-mile-radius, though. Is that okay?"

He grunted something that sounded like begrudging approval, and stalked out of the room. Naturally, as soon as I'd won the fight, I began to feel guilty.

"We're going out?" Elsa asked, her voice low but enthusiastic.

I turned to glare at her. "Yes. I think I'd like to talk to youalone."

She didn't look as apprehensive as I thought she should.

I waited to begin until we were safely in her car.

"What wasthat?" I demanded.

"I know you want to see your mother, Anna—you've been talking about her in your sleep. Worrying, actually."

"I have?"

She nodded. "But, clearly, you were too much of a coward to deal with David, so I interceded on your behalf."

"Interceded? You threw me to the sharks!"

She rolled her eyes. "I don't think you were in any danger."

"But I told you I didn't want to fight with David."

"Nobody said you had to."

I glowered at her. "You don't get to talk your way out of this. I specifically said I didn't want to bring it up this soon with David. I told you no and you didn't listen to me, even though Itrustedyou to not say anything."

It was a bit of a low blow, but it bothered me that she didn't seem to listen to how I wanted the situation handled and went behind my back to force my hand. The topic of trust between Elsa and I was still a sensitive one.

Her mood instantly shifted; her eyes became pained, and her posture fell slightly.

"I'm sorry, Anna, you're right."

I simply nodded once, still too angry to say anything. I stared at her, speculating. She didn't seem to notice. Her face was sad as she gazed out the windshield. Something was off, but I couldn't put my finger on it. For as careful as she was to not do anything to ruin her chances of rebuilding the trust between us, this was a fairly reckless move on her part.

"Does this sudden urge to see Florida have anything to do with the party at Billy's place?"

Her jaw flexed. "Nothing at all. It wouldn't matter if you were here or on the other side of the world, you still wouldn't be going."

I felt my anger and frustration flare up, "I don't want to fight with you tonight, too. But this is going to be a problem and we'll talk about it later, understand?"

"Yes, mam" She said quietly.

I glared out of the windshield and huffed.

Elsa sighed, and when she spoke her voice was warm and velvet again. "So what do you want to do tonight?" she asked.

"Can we go to your house? I haven't seen Esme in so long."

"She'll like that." I could tell from her voice she was smiling. "Especially when she hears what we're doing this weekend."

I groaned in defeat.

We didn't stay out late, as I'd promised. I was not surprised to see the lights still on when we pulled up in front of the house—I knew David would be waiting to continue the earlier conversation.

"You'd better not come inside," I said. "It will only make things worse."

"The tone of his thoughts are relatively calm," Elsa teased. Her expression made me wonder if there was some additional joke I was missing. The corners of her mouth twitched, fighting a smile.

"I'll see you later," I muttered.

She laughed and kissed the top of my head. "I'll be back when David's snoring. I'm sorry again."

The TV was loud when I got inside. I briefly considered trying to sneak past him.

"Could you come in here, Anna?" David called, sinking that plan.

My feet dragged as I took the five necessary steps.

"What's up, Dad?"

"Did you have a nice time tonight?" he asked. He seemed ill at ease. I looked for hidden meanings in his words before I answered.

"Yes," I said hesitantly.

"What did you do?"

I shrugged. "Hung out with Alice and Jasper. Elsa beat Alice at chess, and then I played Jasper. He buried me."

I smiled. Elsa and Alice playing chess was one of the funniest things I'd ever seen. They'd sat there nearly motionless, staring at the board, while Alice foresaw the moves she would make and she picked the movies she would make in return out of her head. They played most of the game in their minds; I think they'd each moved two pawns when Alice suddenly flicked her king over and surrendered. It took all of three minutes.

David hit the mute button—and unusual action.

"Look, there's something I need to say." He frowned, looking very uncomfortable.

I sat down on the couch, very still, waiting. He met my gaze for a second before shifting his eyes to the floor. He didn't say anything more.

"What is it, Dad?"

He sighed. "I'm not good at this kind of thing. I don't know where to start…"

I waited again.

"Okay, Anna, here's the thing." He got up from the couch and started pacing back and forth across the room, looking at his feet all the time. "You and Elsa seem pretty serious, and there are some things that you need to be careful about. I know you're an adult now, but you're still young, Anna, and there are a lot of important things you need to know when you… well, when you're physically involved with—"

"Oh, please,pleaseno." I jumped to my feet. "Please tell me we're not about to have the sex talk, David."

He glared at the floor. "I am your father. I have responsibilities. Remember, I'm just as embarrassed as you are."

"I don't think that's possible. Anyway, Mom beat you to the punch about ten years ago. You're off the hook."

"Ten years ago you didn't have a girlfriend," he muttered unwillingly. I could tell he was battling with his desire to drop the subject. We were both standing up, looking at the floor, and facing away from each other.

"I don't think the essentials have changed that much," I mumbled, and my face had to be as red as his. This was beyond awful; even worse was realizing that Elsa had known this was coming. No wonder she'd seemed so smug in the car.

"Just tell me that you two are being responsible," David pled, obviously wishing a pit would open in the floor so that he could fall in.

"Don't worry about it, Dad, it's not like that."

"Not that I don't trust you, Anna, but I know you don't want to tell me anything about this. And listen, I know I don't really know how it all goes between… Well, when it's two… I mean, oh boy." He blew out a puff of air, and rubbed the back of his neck.

"Between two girls?" I offered, my face burning with embarrassment.

"Exactly." David huffed. "I know you don't have to worry about pregnancy and all that, but you still have to be…. Safe." David struggled through the words. "I'm not going to give you a whole speech about waiting till marriage, I'm an open-minded guy, and I know times are changing."

I laughed awkwardly. "Maybe the times have, but Elsa is very old-fashioned. You have nothing to worry about."

David sighed. "Sure she is," he muttered.

"Oh god, okay," I groaned. "Dad, don't worry about it. I'm… God… Dad, I'm still a virgin, and I have no immediate plans to change that."

We both cringed, but then David's face smoothed out. He seemed to believe me.

"Can I go to bed now?Please."

"In a minute," he said.

"Aw, please, Dad? I'm begging you."

"The embarrassing part's over, I promise." He assured me.

I shot a glance at him, and was grateful to see that he looked more relaxed, that his face was back to its regular color. He sank down into the sofa, sighing with relief that he was past the sex speech.

"What's up, Dad?"

"I just wanted to know how the balance thing is coming along."

"Oh. Good, I guess. I made plans with Jeremy and Angela today for a night out soon. And I told Angela I'd help her with her with her graduation announcements. Just us, no boyfriends."

"That's nice. And what about Kristoff?"

I sighed. "I haven't figured that one out yet, Dad."

"Keep trying, Anna. I know you'll do the right thing. You're a good person."

I felt guilty when he said that. Was I really? Wasn't it really my fault Kristoff was so miserable right now?

"Sure, sure," I agreed. The automatic response made a smile flicker across my face—it was something I'd picked up from Kristoff. I even said it in the same tone he used with his own father.

David grinned and turned the sound back on. He slumped lower into the cushions, relieved that his fatherly duties were complete for the night. I could tell he would be up with the game for a while.

"Night, kiddo."

"See you in the morning!" I sprinted for the stairs.

Elsa was long gone and she wouldn't be back until David was asleep—she was probably out hunting or something to pass the time—so I was in no hurry to undress for bed. I wasn't in the mood to be alone, but I certainly wasn't going back downstairs to hang out with my Dad, just in case he thought of some topic of sex education that he hadn't touched on before; I shuddered.

So, thanks to David, I was wound up and anxious. My homework was done and I didn't feel mellow enough for reading or just listening to music. I considered calling Renée with the news of my visit, but then I realized that it was three hours later in Florida, and she would be asleep.

I could call Angela, or Jeremy, I supposed.

But suddenly I knew it wasn't them I wanted to talk to. That Ineededto talk to.

I stared at the blank black window, biting my lip. I didn't know how long I stood there weighing the pros against the cons—doing the right thing by Kristoff, seeing my closest friend again, being a good person, versus making Elsa furious with me. Ten minutes maybe. Long enough to decide that the pros were valid while the cons were not. Elsa was only concerned about my safety, and I knew that there was really no problem on that count.

The phone wasn't any help; Kristoff had refused to answer my phone calls since Elsa's return. Besides, I needed toseehim—see him smiling again the way he used to. I needed to replace that awful last memory of his face warped and twisted by pain if I was ever going to have any peace of mind.

Beyond even that, there was a desire—deep down—to just spend time with Kristoff. I couldn't deny that he held a part of my heart, even still. Even though it appeared he wasn't willing to wait for me like he had promised, I couldn't be upset about that—he shouldn't be waiting for something that wouldn't happen. I had more or less chosen Elsa, and I was content with that decision. Since all that was off the table, I knew I needed to have Kristoff back as my friend.

I had an hour probably. I could make a quick run down to La Push and be back before Elsa realized I had gone. It was past my curfew, but would David really care about that when Elsa wasn't involved? One way to find out.

I grabbed my jacket and shoved my arms through the sleeves as I ran down the stairs.

David looked up from the game, instantly suspicious.

"Is it okay if I go see Kristoff tonight?" I asked breathlessly. "I won't stay long."

As soon as I said Kristoff's name, David's expression relaxed into a smile. He seemed pleased that his lecture on balance had taken effect so quickly. "Sure, kid. No problem. Stay as long as you like."

"Thanks, Dad," I said as I darted out the door.

Like any fugitive, I couldn't help looking over my shoulder a few times while I jogged to my truck, but the night was so black that there was no point. I had to feel my way along the side of the truck to the handle.

My eyes were beginning to adjust as I shoved my keys into the ignition. I twisted them hard to the left, but instead of roaring deafeningly to life, the engine just clicked. I tried it again with the same results.

And then a small motion in my peripheral vision made me jump.

"Gah!" I gasped in shock when I saw that I was not alone in the cab.

Elsa sat very still, a faint bright spot in the darkness, only her hands moving as she turned a mysterious black object around and around. She stared at the object as she spoke.

"Alice called," she murmured.

Alice! Damn. I'd forgotten to account for her in my plans. She must have her watching me.

"She got nervous when your future abruptly disappeared five minutes ago."

My eyes, already wide with surprise, popped wider.

"Because she can't see the wolves, you know," she explained in the same low murmur. "Had you forgotten that? When you decide to mingle your fate with theirs, you disappear, too. You couldn't know that part, I realize that. But can you understand why that might make me a little… anxious? Alice saw you disappear, and she couldn't even tell if you'd come home or not. Your future got lost, just like theirs.

"We're not sure why this is. Some natural defense they're born with?" She spoke as if she were talking to herself now, still looking at the piece of my truck's engine as she twirled it in her hands. "That doesn't seem entirely likely, since I haven't had any trouble reading their thoughts. The Blacks' at least. Carlisle theorizes that it's because their lives are so ruled by their transformations. It's more an involuntary reaction than a decision. Utterly unpredictable, and it changes everything about them. In that instant when they shift from one form to the other, they don't really even exist. The future can't hold them…"

I listened to her musing in stony silence.

"I'll put your car back together in time for school, in case you'd like to drive yourself," she assured me after a minute.

When I finally spoke, my voice was like ice. "You'd better. If there's even the slightest problem with it, you'll be in even more trouble than you are right now."

I retrieved my keys and stiffly climbed out of the truck.

"Anna," Elsa began. My eyes met hers, and something in mine caused her to minutely shrink back from my gaze. She dropped her eyes before continuing. "Shut your window if you want me to stay away tonight. I'll understand," she whispered and I slammed the door in her face.

I stomped into the house, slamming that door, too.

"What's wrong?" David demanded.

"Truck won't start," I growled.

"Want me to look at it?"

"No. I'll try in the morning."

"Want to use my car?"

I wasn't supposed to drive his police cruiser. David must be really desperate to get me to La Push. Nearly as desperate as I was.

"No. I'm more tired than I thought I was," I grumbled. "Thanks, though. Night."

I stamped my way up the stairs, and went straight to my window. I shoved the metal frame roughly—it crashed shut and the glass trembled.

I stared at the shivering black glass for a long moment, until it was still. Then I sighed, flipped the lock, and closed the curtains.


	3. motives

**yes this whole story except for the last chapter is in Annas pov. Anyway keep the reviews coming lol**

The sun was so deeply buried behind the clouds that there was no way to tell if it had set or not. After the long flight—chasing the sun westward so that it seemed unmoving in the sky—it was especially disorienting; time seemed oddly variable. It took me by surprise when the forest gave way to the first buildings, signaling that we were nearly home.

"You've been very quiet," Elsa observed. "Did the plane make you sick?"

"No, I'm okay."

"Are you sad to leave?"

"Sad, yes. A little relieved, though."

She raised one eyebrow at me. I knew it was useless and—much as I hated to admit it—unnecessary to ask her to keep her eyes on the road.

"Renée is so much more…perceptivethan David in some ways. It was making me jumpy."

Elsa laughed. "Your mother has a very interesting mind. Almost childlike, but very insightful. She sees things differently than other people."

Insightful. It was a good description of my mother—when she was paying attention. Most of the time Renée was so bewildered by her own life that she didn't notice much else. But this weekend she'd been paying plenty of attention to me.

Phil was busy—the high school baseball team he coached was in the playoffs—and being alone with Elsa and me had only sharpened Renée's focus. As soon as the hugs and squeals of delight were out of the way, Renée began to watch. And as she'd watched, her wide blue eyes had become first confused and then concerned.

This morning we'd gone for a walk along the beach. She wanted to show off all the beauties of her new home, still hoping, I think, that the sun might lure me away from Forks. She'd also wanted to talk with me alone, and that was easily arranged. Elsa had fabricated a term paper to give herself an excuse to stay indoors during the day.

In my head, I went through the conversation again…

Renée and I ambled along the sidewalk, trying to stay in range of the infrequent palm tree shadows. Though it was early, the heat was smothering. The air was so heavy with moisture that just breathing in and out was giving my lungs a workout.

"Anna?" my mother asked, looking out past the sand to the lightly crashing waves as she spoke.

"What is it, Mom?"

She sighed, not meeting my gaze. "I'm worried…"

"What's wrong?" I asked, anxious at once. "What can I do?"

"It's not me." She shook her head. "I'm worried about you… and Elsa."

Renée finally looked at me when she said her name, her face apologetic.

"Oh," I mumbled, fixing my eyes on a pair of joggers as they passed us, drenched with sweat.

"You two are more serious than I'd been thinking," she went on.

I frowned, quickly reviewing the last two days in my head. Elsa and I had barely touched—in front of her, at least. I wondered if Renée was about to give me a lecture on responsibility, too. I didn't mind that the way I had with David. Lectures on responsibility had been pretty common between my mother and I time and time again in the last ten years.

"There's something… strange about the way you two are together," she murmured, her forehead creasing over her troubled eyes. "The way she watches you—it's so… protective. Like she's about to throw herself in front of a bullet to save you or something."

I laughed, though I was still not able to meet her gaze. "That's a bad thing?"

"No." She frowned as she struggled for the words. "It's justdifferent. She's very intense about you… and very careful. I feel like I don't really understand your relationship. Like there's some secret I'm missing…"

"I think you're imagining things, Mom," I said quickly, struggling to keep my voice light. There was a flutter in my stomach. I'd forgotten how much my mothersaw. Something about her simple view of the world cut through all the distractions and pierced right to the truth of things. This had never been a problem before. Until now, there had never been a secret I couldn't tell her.

"I wish you could see the way she moves around you." She set her lips defensively.

"What do you mean?"

"The way she moves—she orients herself around you. When you move, even a little bit, she adjusts her position at the same time. Like magnets… or gravity. She's like a… satellite, or something. I've never seen anything like it."

She pursed her lips and stared down.

"Don't tell me," I teased, forcing a smile. "You're reading mystery novels again, aren't you? Or is it sci-fi this time?"

Renée flushed a delicate pink. "That's beside the point."

"Found anything good?"

"Well, there was one—but that doesn't matter. We're talking about you right now."

"You should stick to romance, Mom. You know how you freak yourself out."

Her lips turned up at the corners. "I'm being silly, aren't I?"

For half a second I couldn't answer. Renée was so easily swayed. Sometimes it was a good thing, because not all of her ideas were practical. But it pained me to see how quickly she caved in to my trivializing, especially since she was dead right this time.

She looked up, and I controlled my expression.

"Not silly—just being a mom."

She laughed and then gestured grandly toward the white sands stretching to the blue water.

"And all this isn't enough to get you to move back in with your silly mom?"

I wiped my hand dramatically across my forehead, and then pretended to wring my tank top out.

"You get used to the humidity," she promised.

"You can get used to the rain, too," I countered.

She elbowed me playfully and then took my arm as we walked back to her car.

Other than her worries about me, she seemed happy enough. Content. She still looked at Phil with goo-goo eyes, and that was comforting. Surely her life was full and satisfying. Surely she didn't miss me that much, even now…

Elsa's icy fingers brushed my cheek. I looked up, blinking, coming back to the present. She leaned down and kissed my forehead.

"We're home, sleepy head. Time to awake."

We were stopped in front of David's house. The porch light was on and the cruiser was parked in the driveway. As I examined the house, I saw the curtain twitch in the living room window, flashing a line of yellow light across the dark lawn.

I sighed. I couldn't blame David for being antsy.

Elsa must have been thinking the same thing, because her expression was stiff and her eyes remote as she came to get my door for me.

"How bad?" I asked.

"Hm?" Her eyes flickered to mine, "Oh, David's not going to be difficult," Elsa promised, her voice level with no hint of humor. "He missed you."

My eyes narrowed in doubt. If that was the case, then why was Elsa tensed as if for a battle?

"Anna," she whispered, stopping me from climbing out of the car. "Are you still angry with me?"

"Angry?" I blinked, confused.

She laughed darkly. "You were very angry with me a few days ago. And…" her eyes dropped. "You had—have—every right to be."

I thought back to our fight before the trip, when she had disabled my truck to stop me from going to La Push to see Kristoff. I hadn't let her come in my room that night, or the next, for that matter. I had also insisted on driving myself to school every day leading up to the trip. On the night when I finally let her come in after David had gone to bed, she spent most of our time together begging for my forgiveness and whispering apologies into my ear. If I couldn't hear the absolute sincerity in every word I would have thought she was putting on a show.

I thought for a moment before answering, "I wasveryangry with you," I said slowly, and she winced, "but I'm not so angry now. I'm more disappointed in the situation, I guess."

I could have told her I hated her and her reaction would have been less severe. Her face looked excruciatingly pained, she took my hands in hers, and her eyes bore into mine.

"I need you to know, Anna, that I only stopped you from going because I love you and I couldn't let anything happen to you." Her voice was low and urgent.

"I know, you thought you were doing what was best." I said, solemnly.

She sighed, and lifted my hands to her cold lips. She kissed each of them again and again. "Perhaps, what I think is best isn't always the wisest course of action." She muttered between gentle kisses.

"Now you're realizing this?" I teased, leaning forward to kiss her forehead.

Before I realized it, she had swiftly lifted her head, and caught my lips with her own. Her hands moved to either side of my face, and she kissed me deeply. My head spun from the surprise and the intensity of the kiss.

She slowly pulled away, "I'm sorry, Anna."

"Mmm…" I mumbled. "Yup."

She laughed softly.

"Let's get inside before David comes out."

My bag was small, but she insisted on carrying it into the house. David opened the door just as we reached the porch.

"Welcome home, kid!" David shouted like he really meant it. "How was Jacksonville?"

"Moist. And buggy." I laughed.

"So Renée didn't sell you on the University of Florida?"

"She tried. But I'd rather drink water than inhale it."

David's eyes flickered to Elsa. "Did you have a nice time?"

"Yes," Elsa answered in a serene voice. "Renée was very hospitable."

"That's… um, good. Glad you had fun." David turned away from Elsa and pulled me in for an unexpected hug.

"Impressive," I whispered in his ear.

He rumbled a laugh. "I really missed you, Anna. The food around here sucks when you're gone."

"I'll get on it," I said as he let me go. "I think I missed my calling as a chef."

"Would you call Kristoff first? He's been bugging me every five minutes since six o'clock this morning. I promised I'd have you call him before you even unpacked."

I glanced at Elsa, she was too still, too cold beside me. The tension I had detected in the car was nothing compared to now.

"Kristoff wants to talk to me?"

"Pretty bad, I'd say. He wouldn't tell me what it was about—just that it was important."

The phone rang then, shrill and demanding.

"That's him again, I'd bet my next paycheck," David muttered.

"I got it." I hurried to the kitchen.

Elsa followed after me while David disappeared into the living room.

I grabbed the phone mid-ring, and twisted around so that I was facing the wall. "Hello?"

"You're back," Kristoff said.

His familiar husky voice sent a wave of wistfulness through me. A thousand memories spun in my head, tangling together—a rocky beach strewn with driftwood trees, a garage made of plastic sheds, warm sodas in a paper bag, a tiny room with one too-small shabby love-seat. The laughter in his deep-set black eyes, the feverish heat of his big hand around mine, the flash of his white teeth against his dark skin, his face stretching into the wide smile that had warmed my heart from the inside out.

It felt sort of like homesickness, this longing for the place and person who had sheltered me through such a dark time in my life.

I cleared the lump from my throat. "Yes," I answered.

"Why didn't you call me?" Kristoff demanded.

His frustrated tone instantly got my back up. "Because I've been in the house for exactly four seconds and your call interrupted David telling me that you'd called."

"Oh…" His tone became repentant, "Sorry."

"It's fine. Now, why are you harassing David?"

"I need to talk to you."

"I assumed that much, Kristoff. Go ahead."

There was a short pause.

"You going to school tomorrow?"

I frowned to myself, unable to make sense of this question. "Of course I am. Why wouldn't I?"

Another pause.

"So what did you want to talk about, Kristoff?"

He hesitated. "Nothing really, I guess. I…" he trailed off, and I heard him sigh deeply on the other end. "I wanted to hear your voice."

"Kristoff… I'm really glad you called me. I…" But I didn't know what more to say. I wanted to tell him I was on my way to La Push right now. And I couldn't tell him that.

"I have to go," he said abruptly, his voice sounded torn.

"What?"

"I'll talk to you soon, okay?"

"But Kristoff—"

"I'm sorry, Anna."

"Kristoff, wait—"

He was already gone. I listened to the dial tone with disbelief.

"Well, that was short," I muttered.

"Is everything all right?" Elsa asked. her voice was low and careful.

I turned slowly to face her. Her expression was perfectly smooth—impossible to read.

"I don't know. I wonder what that was all about." It didn't make sense that Kristoff had been hounding David all day just to ask me if I was going to school. And if he'd wanted to hear my voice, then why did he hang up so quickly?

"Your guess is probably better than mine," Elsa said, the hint of a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.

"Mmm," I murmured. That was true. I knew Kristoff inside and out. It shouldn't be that complicated to figure out his motivations.

With my thoughts miles away—about fifteen miles away, up the road to La Push—I started combing though the fridge, assembling ingredients for David's dinner. Elsa leaned against the counter, and I was distantly aware that her eyes were on my face, but too preoccupied to worry about what she saw there.

The school thing seemed like the key to me. That was the only real question Kristoff had asked. And he had to be after an answer to something, or he wouldn't have been bugging David so persistently.

Why would my attendance record matter to him, though?

I tried to think about it in a logical way. So, if Ihadn'tbeen going to school tomorrow, what would be the problem with that, from Kristoff's perspective? David had given me a little grief about missing a day of school so close to finals, but I'd convinced him that one Friday wasn't going to derail my studies. Kristoff would hardly care about that.

My brain refused to come up with any brilliant insights. Maybe I was missing some vital piece of information.

What could have changed in the past three days that was so important to Kristoff that would break his long streak of refusing to answer my phone calls and contact me? What difference could three days make?

I froze in the middle of the kitchen. The package of icy hamburger in my hands slipped through my numb fingers. It took me a slow second to miss the thud it should have made against the floor.

Elsa had caught it and thrown it onto the counter. Her arms were already around me, her lips at my ear.

"What's wrong?"

I shook my head, dazed.

Three days could change everything.

It had been on my mind endlessly the last few weeks. If things changed, if I changed my mind or it became a necessity. I had been dwelling on how impossible college would be. How I wouldn't be able to be anywhere near people after I'd gone through the painful three-day conversion that would rob me of my mortality. The conversion that would make me forever a prisoner to my own thirst…

Had David told Billy that I'd vanished for three days? Had Billy jumped to conclusions? Had Kristoff really been asking me if I was still human? Making sure that the werewolves' treaty was unbroken—that none of the Cullens had dared to bite a human… bite, not kill…?

But did he honestly think I would come home to David if that was the case?

Elsa shook me. "Anna?" she asked, truly anxious now.

"I think… I think he was checking," I mumbled. "Checking to make sure. That I'm human, I mean."

Elsa stiffened, and a low hiss sounded in my ear.

"If it does come to that," I whispered. "We'd have to leave, and be so far away so that it doesn't break the treaty. We won't ever be able to come back."

Her arms tightened around me. "I know."

"Ahem." David cleared his voice loudly behind us.

I jumped, and then pulled free of Elsa's arms, my face getting hot. Elsa leaned back against the counter. Her eyes were tight. I could see worry in them, and anger.

"You had a long flight, kiddo, I can just call for a pizza," David offered.

"No, that's okay, Dad, I already started."

"Okay," David shrugged. He propped himself against the doorframe, folding his arms.

I sighed and got to work, trying to ignore my audience.

"If I asked you to do something, would you trust me?" Elsa asked, an edge to her soft voice.

We were almost to school. Elsa had been relaxed and joking just a moment ago, and now suddenly her hands were clenched tight on the steering wheel, her knuckles straining in an effort not to snap it into pieces.

I stared at her anxious expression—her eyes were far away, like she was listening to distant voices.

My pulse sped in response to her stress, but I answered carefully. "That depends."

We pulled into the school lot.

"I was afraid you would say that."

"What do you want me to do, Elsa?"

"I want you to stay in the car." She pulled into her usual spot and turned the engine off as she spoke. "I want you to wait here until I come back for you."

"But…why?"

That was when I saw him. He wouldn't have been hard to miss, towering over the students the way he did, even if he hadn't been leaning against his black motorcycle, parked illegally on the sidewalk.

"Oh."

Kristoff's face was a calm mask that I recognized well. It was the face he used when he was determined to keep his emotions in check, to keep himself under control. It made him look like Sam, the oldest of the wolves, the leader of the Quileute pack. But Kristoff could never quite manage the perfect serenity Sam always exuded.

I'd forgotten how much this face bothered me. Though I'd gotten to know Sam pretty well before the Cullens had come back—to like him even—I'd never been able to completely shake the resentment I felt when Kristoff mimicked Sam's expression. It was a stranger's face. He wasn't my Kristoff when he wore it.

"You jumped to the wrong conclusion last night," Elsa murmured. "He asked about school because he knew that I would be where you were. He was looking for a safe place to talk to me. A place with witnesses."

So I'd misinterpreted Kristoff's motives last night. Missing information, that was the problem. Information like why in the world Kristoff would want to talk to Elsa.

"I'm not staying in the car," I said.

Elsa groaned quietly. "Of course not. Well, let's get this over with."

Kristoff's face hardened as we walked toward him, hand in hand.

I noticed other faces, too—the faces of my classmates. I noticed how their eyes widened as they took in all six foot seven inches of Kristoff's long body, muscled up the way no normal seventeen-and-a-half-year-old ever had been. I saw those eyes rake over his tight black V-neck shirt—short-sleeved, though the day was unseasonably cool—his ragged, grease-smeared jeans, and the glossy black bike he leaned against. Their eyes didn't linger on his face—something about his expression had them glancing quickly away. And I noticed the wide berth everyone gave him, the bubble of space that no one dared to encroach on.

With a sense of astonishment, I realized that Kristoff lookeddangerousto them. How odd.

Elsa stopped a few yards away from Kristoff, and I could tell she was uncomfortable having me so close to a werewolf. She drew her hand back slightly, pulling me halfway behind her body.

"You could have called us," Elsa said in a steel-hard voice.

"Sorry," Kristoff answered with a smirk. "I don't have any leeches on my speed dial."

"You could have reached me at Anna's house, of course. Or her cell phone."

Kristoff's jaw flexed, and his brows pulled together. He didn't answer.

"This is hardly the place, Kristoff. Could we discuss this later?"

"Sure, sure. I'll stop by your crypt after school." Kristoff chuckled darkly. "What's wrong with now?"

Elsa looked around pointedly, her eyes resting on the witnesses who were barely out of hearing range. A few people were hesitating on the sidewalk, their eyes bright with expectation. Like they were hoping a fight might break out to alleviate the tedium of another Monday morning. I saw Tyler Crowley nudge Austin Marks, and they both paused on their way to class.

"I already know what you came to say," Elsa reminded Kristoff in a voice so low thatIcould barely make it out. "Message delivered. Consider us warned."

Elsa glanced down at me for a fleeting second with worried eyes.

"Warned?" I asked blankly. "What are you talking about?"

"You didn't tell her?" Kristoff asked, his eyes widening with disbelief. "What, were you afraid she'd take our side?"

"Please drop it, Kristoff," Elsa said in an even voice.

"Why?" Kristoff challenged.

I frowned in confusion. "What don't I know? Elsa?"

Elsa just glared at Kristoff as if she hadn't heard me.

"Kristoff?"

Kristoff raised his eyebrow at me. "She didn't tell you that her big…brothercrossed the line Saturday night? The big one with the dark hair?" he asked, sarcasm in his voice. Then his eyes flickered back to Elsa. "Paul was totally justified in—"

"It was no-man's land!" Elsa hissed.

"Was not!"

Kristoff was fuming visibly. His hands trembled.

"Kristoff, breathe, please." I shot him a look. He nodded his head and sucked in two deep lungfuls of air.

I turned back to Elsa. "Emmett and Paul?" I whispered. Paul was Kristoff's most volatile pack brother. He was the one who'd lost control that day in the woods—the memory of the snarling gray wolf was suddenly vivid in my head. "What happened? Were they fighting?" I demanded. "Why? Did someone get hurt?"

"No one fought," Elsa said quietly, only to me. "No one got hurt. Don't be anxious."

Kristoff was staring at us with incredulous eyes. "You didn't tell her anything at all, did you? Is that why you took her away? So she wouldn't know that—?"

"Leave now." Elsa cut him off mid-sentence, and her face was suddenly frightening—truly frightening. For a second, she looked like… like avampire. She glared and Kristoff with vicious, unveiled loathing.

Kristoff raised his eyebrows, but made no other move. "Why haven't you told her?"

They faced each other in silence for a long moment. More students gathered behind Tyler and Austin. I saw Makayla next to Ben—Makayla had one hand on Ben's shoulder, like she was holding him in place.

In the dead silence, all the details suddenly fell into place for me with a burst of intuition.

Something Elsa didn't want me to know.

Something that Kristoff wouldn't have kept from me.

Something that had the Cullens and the wolves both in the woods, moving in hazardous proximity to each other.

Something that would cause Elsa to insist that I fly across the country.

Something that Alice had seen in a vision last week—a vision Elsa had lied to me about.

Something I'd been waiting for anyway. Something I knew would happen again, as much as I might wish it never would. It was never going to end, was it?

I felt the gasp of air pull through my lips, before I realized I had reacted. I managed to keep myself very still, despite my rising panic. My vision blurred only slightly around the edges.

"She came back for me," I choked out.

Gerda was never going to give up until I was dead. She would keep repeating the same pattern—feint and run, feint and run—until she found a hole through my defenders.

Maybe I'd get lucky. Maybe the Volturi would come for me first—they'd kill me quicker, at least.

Elsa held me tight to her side, angling her body so that she was still between me and Kristoff, and stroked my face with anxious hands. "It's fine," she whispered to me. "It's fine. I'll never let her get close to you, it's fine."

Then she glared at Kristoff. "Does that answer your question, mongrel?"

"You don't think Anna has a right to know?" Kristoff challenged. "It's her life."

Elsa kept her voice muted; even Tyler, edging forward by inches, would be unable to hear. "Why should she be frightened when she was never in danger?"

"Better frightened than lied to."

I tried to speak, but no sound came out. I couldn't help but picture her—I could see Gerda's face, her lips pulled back over her teeth, her crimson eyes glowing with the obsession of her vendetta; she held Elsa responsible for the demise of her love, Hans. Gerda wouldn't stop until Elsa's love was taken from her, too.

Elsa gently rubbed my back.

"Do you really think hurting her is better than protecting her?" he murmured.

"Anna's tougher than you think," Kristoff said. "And she's been through worse."

Abruptly, Kristoff's expression shifted, his eyes seemed to focus on something that wasn't there, like he was remembering something.

I felt Elsa cringe. I glanced up at her, and her face was contorted in what could only be pain. For one ghastly moment, I was reminded of our afternoon in Italy, in the macabre tower room of the Volturi, where Jane had tortured Elsa with her malignant gift, burning her with her thoughts alone…

The memory of the Volturi, the reality of what they represented snapped me out of my panic.

"What's the matter with you?" Kristoff asked, raising an eyebrow. "Wait…"

Elsa winced, but smoothed her expression with a little effort. She couldn't quite hide the agony in her eyes.

Kristoff laughed, "That's funny," he smirked as he watched Elsa's face.

I glanced, wide-eyed at Kristoff.

"What are you doing?" I demanded.

"It's nothing, Anna" Elsa told me quietly. "Kristoff has a good memory, that's all."

Kristoff grinned, and Elsa winced again.

"Kristoff, stop! Whatever you're doing." I snapped.

"Sure, if you want." Kristoff shrugged. "It's her own fault if she doesn't like the things I remember, though."

I glared at him, and he smiled back impishly—like a kid caught doing something he knows he shouldn't by someone who he knows won't punish him.

"The principal's on his way to discourage loitering on school property," Elsa murmured to me. "Let's get to English, Anna, so you're not involved."

"Overprotective, isn't she?" Kristoff said, talking just to me. "A little trouble makes life fun. Let me guess, you're not allowed to have fun, are you?"

Elsa glowered, and her lips pulled back from her teeth ever so slightly.

"Knock it off, Kristoff," I said.

Kristoff laughed. "That sounds like ano. Hey, if you ever feel like having a life again, you could come see me. I've still got your motorcycle in my garage."

This news distracted me. "You were supposed to sell that. You promised David you would." If I hadn't begged on Kristoff's behalf—after all, he'd put weeks of labor into both motorcycles, and he deserved some kind of payback—David would have thrown my bike in a dumpster. And possibly set that dumpster on fire.

"Yeah, right. Like I would do that. It belongs to you, not me. Anyway, I'll hold on to it until you want it back."

A tiny hint of the smile I remembered was suddenly playing around the edges of his lips.

"Kristoff…"

He leaned forward, his face earnest now, the bitter sarcasm fading. "I think I might have been wrong before, you know, about not being able to be friends. Maybe we could manage it, on my side of the line. Come see me."

I was vividly conscious of Elsa, her arms wrapped protectively around me, motionless as a stone. I shot a look at her face—it was calm, patient.

"I… Kristoff, I…" the words kept catching, I wasn't sure what to say.

Kristoff dropped the antagonist façade completely. It was like he'd forgotten Elsa was there, or at least he was determined to act that way. "I miss you every day, Anna. It's not the same without you."

"I know and I'm sorry, Kristoff, I…"

He shook his head, and sighed. "I know. Doesn't matter, right? I guess I'll survive or something. Who needs friends?" He grimaced, trying to cover the pain with a thin attempt at bravado.

Kristoff's suffering had always triggered my protective side. It was not entirely rational—Kristoff was hardly in need of any physical protection I could offer. But my arms, pinned beneath Elsa's yearned to reach out to him. To wrap around his big, warm waist in a silent promise of acceptance and comfort.

Elsa's shielding arms had become restraints.

Kristoff's eyes met mine and he smiled sadly. "I've got loads of time."

The words triggered a surge of emotion in me, and I wanted nothing more than to run to him. But what could I do?

"Okay, get to class," a stern voice sounded behind us. "Move along, Mr. Crowley."

"Get to school, Kristoff," I whispered, anxious as soon as I recognized the principal's voice. Kristoff went to the Quileute school, but he might still get in trouble for trespassing or the equivalent.

Elsa released me, taking just my hand and pulling me behind her body again.

Mr. Greene pushed through the circle of spectators, his brows pressing down like ominous storm clouds over his small eyes.

"I mean it," he was threatening. "Detention for anyone who's still standing here when I turn around again."

The audience melted away before he was finished with his sentence.

"Ah, Ms. Cullen. Do we have a problem here?"

"Not at all, Mr. Greene. We were just on our way to class."

"Excellent. I don't seem to recognize your friend." Mr. Greene turned his glower on Kristoff. "Are you a new student here?"

Mr. Greene's eyes scrutinized Kristoff, and I could see that he'd come to the same conclusion everyone else had: dangerous. A troublemaker.

"Nope," Kristoff answered, half a smirk on his broad lips.

"Then I suggest you remove yourself from school property at once, young man, before I call the police."

Kristoff's little smirk became a full-blown grin, and I knew he was picturing David showing up to arrest him. This grin was too bitter, too full of mocking to satisfy me. This wasn't the smile I'd been waiting to see.

Kristoff said, "Yes, sir," and snapped a military salute before he climbed on his bike and kicked it to a start right there on the sidewalk. The engine snarled and then the tires squealed as he spun it sharply around. In a matter of seconds, Kristoff raced out of sight.

Mr. Greene gnashed his teeth together while he watched the performance.

"Ms. Cullen, I expect you to ask your friend to refrain from trespassing again."

"He's no friend of mine, Mr. Greene, but I'll pass along the warning."

Mr. Greene pursed his lips. Elsa's perfect grades and spotless record were clearly a factor in Mr. Greene's assessment of the incident. "I see. If you're worried about any trouble, I'd be happy to—"

"There's nothing to worry about, Mr. Greene. There won't be any trouble."

"I hope that's correct. Well, then. On to class. You, too, Ms. Winters."

Elsa nodded, and pulled me quickly along toward the English building.

"Do you feel well enough to go to class?" she whispered when we were past the principal.

"Of course," I whispered back, not quite sure if it were actually true.

Whether I felt well or not was hardly the most important consideration. I needed to talk to Elsa right away, and English class wasn't the ideal place for the conversation I had in mind.

But with Mr. Greene right behind us, there weren't a lot of other options.

We got to class a little late and took our seats quickly. Mr. Berty was reciting a Frost poem. He ignored our entrance, refusing to let us break his rhythm.

I yanked a blank page out of my notebook and started writing, my handwriting more illegible than normal thanks to my agitation.

What happened? Tell me everything. And screw the protecting me crap, please.

I shoved the note at Elsa. She sighed, and then began writing. It took her less time than me, though she wrote an entire paragraph in her own personal calligraphy before she slipped the paper back.

Alice saw that Gerda was coming back. I took you out of town merely as a precaution—there was never a chance that she would have gotten anywhere close to you. Emmett and Jasper very nearly had her, but Gerda seems to have some instinct for evasion. She escaped right down the Quileute boundary line as if she were reading it from a map. It didn't help that Alice's abilities were nullified by the Quileutes' involvement. To be fair, the Quileutes might have had her, too, if we hadn't gotten in the way. The big gray one though Emmett was over the line, and he got defensive. Of course, Royal reacted to that, and everyone left the chase to protect their companions. Carlisle and Jasper got things calmed down before it got out of hand. But by then, Gerda had slipped away. That's everything.

I frowned at the letters on the page. All of them had been in on it—Emmett, Jasper, Alice, Royal, and Carlisle. Maybe even Esme, though she hadn't mentioned her. And then Paul and the rest of the Quileute pack. It might so easily have turned into a fight, my friends against my friends. Any one of them could have been hurt.

I shuddered.

Carefully, I scrubbed out the entire paragraph with my eraser and then I wrote over the top:

What about David? She could have been after him.

Elsa was shaking her head before I finished, obviously going to downplay any danger on David's behalf. She held a hand out, but I ignored that and started again.

You can't know that Gerda wasn't thinking that, because you weren't here. Florida was a bad idea.

She took the paper from underneath my hand.

I wasn't about to send you off alone. With your luck, not even the black box would survive.

My previous worry was suddenly overshadowed by her response and the annoyance it caused. Like I couldn't fly across the country without bringing the plane down. Very funny.

So let's say my bad luck did crash the plane. What exactly are you going to do about it?

Why is the plane crashing?

She was trying to hide a smile now.

The pilots are passed out drunk.

Easy. I'd fly the plane.

Of course. I pursed my lips and tried again.

Both engines have exploded and we're falling in a death spiral toward the earth.

I'd wait until we were close enough to the ground, get a good grip on you, kick out the wall, and jump. Then I'd run you back to the scene of the accident, and we'd stumble around like the two luckiest survivors in history.

I stared at her wordlessly.

"What?" she whispered.

I shook my head. "Unbelievable," I mouthed.

I scrubbed out the disconcerting conversation and wrote one more line.

You will tell me next time.

I knew there would be a next time. The pattern would continue until someone lost.

Elsa stared into my eyes for a long moment. I wondered what my face looked like—it felt cold, serious, and intense.

She sighed and then nodded once.

Thanks.

The paper disappeared from under my hand. I looked up, blinking in surprise, just as Mr. Berty came down the aisle.

"Is that something you'd like to share there, Ms. Cullen?"

Elsa looked up innocently and held out the sheet of paper on top of her folder. "My notes?" she asked, sounding confused.

Mr. Berty scanned the notes—no doubt a perfect transcription of his lecture—and then walked away frowning.

It was later, in Calculus—my one class without Elsa—that I heard the gossip.

"My money's on the buff guy with the bike," someone was saying.

I peeked up to see that Tyler, Makayla, Austin, and Ben had their heads bent together, deep in conversation.

"Yeah," Makayla whispered. "Did you see thesizeof that Kristoff kid? I think he could take Cullen down." Makayla sounded pleased by the idea.

"I don't think so," Ben disagreed. "There's something about Elsa for a girl she's I know know intimidating you know. She's always so… confident. I have a feeling she can take care of herself."

"I'm with Ben," Tyler agreed. "Besides, if that other kid messed Elsa up, you know those big brothers of hers would get involved."Especially for hitting a girl you know.

"Have you been down to La Push lately?" Makayla asked. "Lauren and I went to the beach a couple of weeks ago, and believe me, Kristoff's friends are all just as big as he is."

"Huh," Tyler said. "Too bad it didn't turn into anything. Guess we'll never know how it would have turned out."

"It didn't look over to me," Austin said. "Maybe we'll get to see."

Makayla grinned. "Anyone in the mood for a bet?"

"Ten on Kristoff," Austin said at once.

"Ten on Cullen," Tyler chimed in.

"Ten on Elsa," Ben agreed.

"Kristoff," Makayla said.

"Hey, do you guys know what it was about?" Austin wondered. "That might affect the odds."

"I can guess," Makayla said, and then she shot a glance at me at the same time that Ben and Tyler did.

From their expressions, none of them had realized I was in easy hearing distance. They all looked away quickly, shuffling the papers on their desks.

"I still say Kristoff," Makayla muttered under her breath.


	4. nature

I was having a bad week.

I knew that essentially nothing had changed. Okay, so Gerda had not given up, but had I ever dreamed for one moment that she had? Her reappearance had only confirmed what I had already known. No reason for fresh panic.

In theory. Not panicking was easier said than done.

Graduation was only a few weeks away, the conflict of wanting to plan for college against knowing that I would probably have to go into hiding once I was out of David's house made me feel even more panicky. With my luck, the Volturi would come knocking the second I got my diploma, and Gerda would be waiting for me in the audience. I felt like a walking target.

But no one would listen to me.

Carlisle had said, "There are seven of us, Anna. And with Alice on our side, I don't think Gerda's going to catch us off guard. Try to spend as much time as you can with David while you are able."

Esme had said, "We'd never allow anything to happen to you, sweetheart. You know that. Please don't be anxious." And then she'd kissed my forehead.

Emmett had said, "I'm really glad Elsa didn't kill you, lil sis. Everything's so much more fun with you around."

Royal had glared at him.

Alice had rolled her eyes and said, "I'm offended. You're not honestlyworriedabout this, are you?"

"If it's no big deal, then why did Elsa drag me to Florida?" I'd demanded.

"Haven't you noticed yet, Anba, that Elsa is just the teensiest bit prone to overreaction?"

Jasper had silently erased all the panic and tension in my body with his curious talent of controlling emotional atmospheres. I'd felt reassured, and let them talk me out of my desperate panic.

Of course, the calm had worn off as soon as Elsa and I had walked out of the room.

So the consensus was that I was just supposed to forget that a deranged vampire was stalking me, intent on my death. Go about my business.

I did try. And surprisingly, therewereother things almost as stressful to dwell on besides my status on the endangered species list…

Because Elsa's response had been the most frustrating of them all.

"You know I won't let anything happen to you, Anna," She'd said. "You have nothing to worry about."

It was ridiculous for her to say, since she had been the one to force my hand to get me out of the state for the weekend. If there was nothing to worry about she wouldn't have manipulated the situationorlied to me.

All in all, a very bad week. And today was the worst day in it.

It was always a bad day when Elsa was away. Alice had foreseen nothing out of the ordinary this weekend, and so I'd insisted that she take the opportunity to go hunting with her brothers. I knew how it bored her to hunt the easy, nearby prey.

"Go have fun," I'd told her. "Bag a few mountain lions for me."

I would never admit to her how hard it was for me when she was gone—how I felt exposed and unsafe. If she knew that, she would fret endlessly and would be afraid to ever leave me, even for the most necessary reasons. We had only just gotten to the point where she would leave me at all since she'd first returned from Italy. She would refuse to leave—out of guilt, mostly—until she couldn't possibly stand it. Her golden eyes had turned black and she'd suffered from her thirst more than it was already necessary that she suffer. So I had to be the responsible one and all but kicked her out the door whenever Emmett and Jasper wanted to go.

I think she could understand my reservations about her leaving, though. This morning there had been a note left on my pillow:

I'll be back so soon you won't have time to miss me. Look after my heart—I've left it with you

So now I had a big empty Saturday with nothing but my morning shift at Newton's Olympic Outfitters to distract me. And, of course, the oh-so-comforting promise from Alice.

"I'm staying close to home to hunt. I'll only be fifteen minutes away if you need me. I'll keep an eye out for trouble."

Translation: don't try anything funny just because Elsa is gone.

Alice was certainly just as capable of crippling my truck as Elsa was.

Even though Alice's presencewasa comfort, I couldn't help but be annoyed that I couldn't go down to La Push and see Kristoff.

I tried to look on the bright side. After work, I had plans to help Angela with her announcements, so that would be a distraction. And David was in an excellent mood today—no doubt due to Elsa's absence—so I might as well enjoy that while it lasted. Alice would spend the night with me if I felt nervous enough to ask her to. And then tomorrow, Elsa would be home. I would survive.

Not wanting to be ridiculously early for work, I ate my breakfast slowly, one Cheerio at a time. Then, after I'd washed the dishes, I arranged the magnets on the fridge into a perfect line. Maybe I was losing my mind a little.

The last two magnets—round black utilitarian pieces that were my favorites because they could hold ten sheets of paper to the fridge without breaking a sweat—did not want to cooperate with my fixation. Their polarities were reversed; every time I tried to line the last one up, the other jumped out of place.

For some reason—impending mania, perhaps—this really irritated me. Why couldn't they just play nice? Stupid with stubbornness, I kept shoving them together as if I was expecting them to suddenly give up. I could have flipped one over, but that felt like losing. Finally, exasperated at myself more than the magnets, I pulled them from the fridge and held them together with two hands. It took a little effort—they were strong enough to put up a fight—but I forced them coexist side-by-side.

"See," I said out loud—talking to inanimate objects, never a good sign—"That's not so horrible, is it?"

I stood there like an idiot for a second, not quite able to admit that I wasn't having any lasting effect against scientific principles. Then, with a sigh, I put the magnets back on the fridge, a foot apart.

"There's no need to be so inflexible," I muttered.

It was still too early, but I'd decided I'd better get out of the house before the inanimate objects started talking back.

When I got to Newton's, Makayla was methodically dry mopping the aisles while her mom arranged a new counter display. I caught them in the middle of an argument, unaware that I had arrived.

"But it's the only time that Tyler can go," Makayla complained. "You said after graduation—"

"You're just going to have to wait," Mrs. Newton snapped. "You and Tyler can think of something else to do. You are not going to Seattle until the police stop whatever is going on there. I know Beth Crowley has told Tyler the same thing, so don't act like I'm the bad guy—oh, good morning, Anna," she said when she caught sight of me, brightening her tone quickly. "You're early."

Karen Newton was the last person I'd think to ask for help in an outdoor sports equipment store. Her perfectly highlighted blond hair was always smoothed into an elegant twist on the back of her neck, her fingernails were polished by professionals, as were her toenails—visible through the strappy high heels that didn't resemble anything Newton's offered on the long row of hiking boots.

"Light traffic," I joked as I grabbed my hideous fluorescent orange vest out from under the counter. I was surprised that Mrs. Newton was as worked up about this Seattle thing as David. I'd thought he was going to extremes.

"Well, er…" Mrs. Newton hesitated for a moment, playing uncomfortably with a stack of flyers she was arranging by the register.

I stopped with one arm in my vest. I knew that look.

When I'd let the Newton's know that I wouldn't be working here this summer—abandoning them in their busiest season, in effect—they'd started training Katie Marshall to take my place. They couldn't really afford both of us on the payroll at the same time, so when it looked like a slow day…

"I was going to call," Mrs. Newton continued. "I don't think we're expecting a ton of business today. Makayla and I can probably handle things. I'm sorry you got up and drove out…"

On a normal day, I would be ecstatic with this turn of events. Today… not so much.

"Okay, no worries," I said, trying to keep my voice light. What was I going to do now?

"That's not fair, Mom," Makayla said. "If Anna wants to work—"

"No, it's okay, Mrs. Newton. Really, Makayla. I've got finals to study for and stuff…" I didn't want to be a source of familial discord when they were already arguing.

"Thanks, Anna. Makayla, you missed aisle four. Um, Anna, do you mind throwing these flyers in a dumpster on the way out? I told the girl who left them here that I'd put them on the counter, but I really don't have the room."

"Sure, no problem." I put my vest away, and then tucked the flyers under my arm and headed out into the misty rain.

The dumpster was around the side of Newton's, next to where we employees were supposed to park. I shuffled along, kicking pebbles petulantly on my way. I was about to fling the stack of bright yellow papers into the trash when the heading printed in bold across the top caught my eyes. One word in particular seized my attention.

I clutched the papers in both hands as I stared at the picture beneath the caption. A lump rose in my throat.

SAVE THE OLYMPIC WOLF

Under the words, there was a detailed drawing of a wolf in front of a fir tree, it's head thrown back in the act of baying at the moon. It was a disconcerting picture; something about the wolf's plaintive posture made him look forlorn. Like he was howling in grief.

And then I was running to my truck, the flyers still locked in my grip.

Fifteen minutes—that's all I had. But it should be long enough. It was only fifteen minutes to La Push, and surely I would cross the boundary line a few minutes before I hit the town.

My truck roared to life without any difficulty.

Alice couldn't have seen me doing this, because I hadn't been planning it. A snap decision, that was the key! And as long as I moved fast enough, I should be able to capitalize on it.

I'd thrown the damp flyers in my haste and they were scattered in a bright mess across the passenger seat—a hundred bolded captions, a hundred dark howling wolves outlined against the yellow background.

I barreled down the wet highway, turning the windshield wipers on high and ignoring the groan of the ancient engine. Fifty-five was the most I could coax out of my truck, and I prayed it would be enough.

I had no clue where the boundary line was, but I began to feel safer as I passed the first houses outside La Push. This must be beyond where Alice was allowed to follow.

I felt my phone buzz in my pocket, I didn't need to look at the screen to tell me who was calling. I would call Alice back when I got to Angela's this afternoon, I reasoned, so that she'd know I was fine. I didn't feel like getting Alice worked up now. She didn't need to be mad at me—Elsa would be angry enough for two when she got back.

My truck was positively wheezing by the time it grated to a stop in front of the familiar faded red house. The lump came back to my throat as I stared at the little place that had once been my refuge. It had been so long since I'd been here.

Before I could cut the engine, Kristoff was standing in the door, his face blank with shock.

In the sudden silence when the truck-roar died, I heard him gasp.

"Anna?"

"Hey, Kristoff!"

"Anna!" he yelled back, and the smile I'd been waiting for stretched across his face like the sun breaking free of the clouds. His teeth gleamed bright against his russet skin. "I can't believe it!"

He ran to the truck and I practically flung myself out of the cab, and then we were both jumping up and down like kids.

"How did you get here?"

"I snuck out!"

"Awesome!"

"Hey, Anna!" Billy had rolled himself into the doorway to see what all the commotion was about.

"Hey, Bil--!"

Just then my air choked off—Kristoff grabbed me up into a bear hug and swung me around in a circle.

"Wow, it's good to see you here!"

"Easy, Kristoff! Can't… breath," I laughed.

He chuckled and put me down.

"Welcome back, Anna," he said, grinning. And the way he said the words made it sound likewelcome home.

We started walking, too keyed up to sit still in the house. Kristoff was practically bouncing as he moved, and I had to remind him a few times that my legs weren't ten feet long.

As we walked, I felt myself settling into another version of myself, the self I had been with Kristoff. A little younger, a little less responsible. Someone who might, on occasion, do something really stupid for no good reason.

Our exuberance lasted through the first few topics of conversation: how we were doing, what we were up to, how long I had, and what had brought me here. When I hesitantly told him about the wolf flyer, his bellowing laugh echoed back from the trees.

But then, as we ambled past the back of the store and shoved through the thick scrub that ringed the far edge of First Beach, we got to the hard parts. All too soon we had to talk about the reason behind our long separation, and I watched as the face of my friend hardened into the bitter mask that was already too familiar.

"So what's the story, anyway?" Kristoff asked me, kicking a piece of driftwood out of his way with too much force. It sailed over the sand and then clattered against the rocks. "I mean, since the last time we… well, before, you know…" He struggled for the words. He took a deep breath and tried again. "What I'm asking is… everything is just back to the way it was beforesheleft? You forgave her for all of that?"

I took a deep breath. "I didn't just forgive her. Believe me, she's been making up for it every day since she came back. I'm not giving out any free passes here."

I wanted to skip past this part, the betrayals, the accusations, but I knew that we had to talk it through before we'd be able to move on to anything else.

Kristoff's face puckered up like he'd just licked a lemon. "I don't think you should've even given her achance." He huffed. "I wish Sam had taken a picture when he found you that night last September. It would be exhibit A."

"Nobody's on trial."

"Maybe somebody should be."

"Not even you would blame her for leaving, if you knew the reason why."

He glared at me a few seconds. "Okay," he challenged. "Amaze me."

His attitude was wearing on me; it hurt to have him upset with me. It reminded me of the bleak afternoon, long ago, when—under orders from Sam—he'd told me we couldn't be friends. I took a second to compose myself.

"Elsa left me last fall because she didn't think I should be hanging out with vampires. She thought it would be better for me if she left."

Kristoff did a double take. He had to scramble for a minute. Whatever he'd been planning to say, it clearly no longer applied. I was glad he didn't know the catalyst behind Elsa's decision. I could only imagine what he'd think if he knew Jasper had tried to kill me.

"She came back, though, didn't she?" Kristoff muttered. "Too bad she can't stick to a decision."

"If you remember,Iwent and gother."

Kristoff stared at me for a moment, and then he backed off. His face relaxed, and his voice was calmer when he spoke.

"That's true. So I never did get the story. What happened?"

I hesitated, biting my lip.

"Is it a secret?" He raised an eyebrow. "Are you not allowed to tell me?"

"No," I replied. "It's just a really long story."

Kristoff smiled, and held out his hand. I hesitated for only a second before I took his hand. He grinned wider and turned to lead me up the beach.

We immediately fell into our old rapport as we walked along. Kristoff swung our arms playfully as we strolled and I couldn't help but laugh. I was glad I wasn't in a rush, after all, I was going to have to face Alice when I got home… and I was in no hurry to experience that.

Kristoff led us to a huge, familiar piece of driftwood—an entire tree, roots and all, bleached white and beached deep in the sand; it wasourtree, in a way.

Kristoff sat down on the natural bench, and patted the space next to him.

"I don't mind long stories. Is there any action?"

I laughed as I sat next to him. "There's some action," I allowed.

"It wouldn't be real horror without any action."

"Horror!" I scoffed. "You don't know the half of it. Now, will you listen, or will you be interrupting me with rude comments about my friends?"

He pretended to lock his lips and then threw the invisible key over his shoulder. I tried not to smile, and failed.

"I'll have to start with the stuff you were already there for," I decided, working to organize the stories in my head before I began.

Kristoff raised his hand.

"Go ahead."

"That's good," he said. "I didn't understand much that was going on at the time."

"Yeah, well, it gets complicated, so pay attention. You know how Aliceseesthings?"

I took his slight scowl—the wolves weren't thrilled that the legends of vampires possessing supernatural gifts were true—for a yes, and proceeded with the account of my race through Italy to rescue Elsa.

I kept it as succinct as possible—leaving out anything that wasn't essential. I tried to read Kristoff's reactions, but his face was enigmatic as I explained how Alice had seen Elsa plan to kill herself when she'd heard that I was dead. Sometimes Kristoff seemed so deep in though, I wasn't sure if he was listening. He only interrupted me one time.

"The fortune-telling bloodsucker can't see us?" he echoed, his face both fierce and gleeful. "Seriously? That'sexcellent!"

I pursed my lips and raised my eyebrow, and we sat in silence, his face expectant as he waited for me to continue. I glared at him until he realized his mistake.

"Oops!" he said. "Sorry." He locked his lips again.

His response was easier to read when I got to the part about the Volturi. His teeth clenched together, goose bumps rose on his arms, and his nostrils flared. I didn't go into specifics, I just told him that Elsa had talked us out of trouble, without revealing the promise we'd been forced to make, or the visit we were anticipating. Krostoff didn't need to have my nightmares.

"Now you know the whole story," I concluded. "So it's your turn to talk. What happened while I was with my mom this weekend?" I knew Kristoff would give more details than Elsa had. He wasn't afraid of scaring me.

Kristoff leaned forward, instantly animated. "So Sven and Quil and I were running patrol on Saturday night, just routine stuff, when out of nowhere—bam!" He threw his arms out, impersonating an explosion. "There it is—a fresh trail, not fifteen minutes old. Sam wanted us to wait for him, but I didn't know you were gone, and I didn't know if your bloodsuckers were keeping an eye on you or not. So we took off after the blackhead at full speed, but she'd crossed the treaty line before we caught up. We spread out along the line, hoping she'd cross back over. It was frustrating, let me tell you." He wagged his head and his hair—growing out from the short crop he'd adopted when he'd joined the pack—flopped into his eyes. "We ended up too far south. The Cullens chased her back to our side just a few miles north of us. Would have been the perfect ambush if we'd have known where to wait."

He shook his head, grimacing now. "That's when it got dicey. Sam and the others caught up to her before we did, but she was dancing right along the line, and the whole coven was right there on the other side. The big one, what's-his-name—"

"Emmett."

"Yeah, him. He made a lunge for her, but that blackhead is fast! Emmett flew right behind her and almost rammed into Paul. So, Paul… well, you know Paul."

"Yeah."

"Lost his focus. Can't say that I blame him—the big guy was right on top of him. Paul sprang—hey, don't give me that look. The vampire was on our land."

I tried to compose my face so that he would go on. My nails were digging into my palms with the stress of the story, even though I knew it had turned out fine.

"Anyway, Paul missed, and the big one got back on his side. But by then the, er, well the, uh, blond…" Kristoff's expression was a comical mix of disdain and unwilling admiration as he tried to come up with a word to describe Elsa's other brother.

"Royal."

"Him. Well, he got real territorial, so Sam and I fell back to get Paul's flanks. Then their leader and the other blond male—"

"Carlisle and Jasper."

He gave me an exasperated look. "You know I don't really care. Anyway, soCarlislespoke to Sam, trying to calm things down. Then it was weird, because everyone got really calm really fast. It was that other one you told me about, messing with our heads. But even though we knew what he was doing, we couldn'tnotbe calm."

"Yeah, I know how it feels."

"Really annoying, that's how it feels. Only you can't be annoyed until afterwards." He shook his head annoyed. "So Sam and the head vamp agreed that Gerda was the priority, and we started after her again. Carlisle gave us the line, so that we could follow the scent properly, but then she hit the cliffs just north of Makah country, right where the line hugs the coast for a few miles. She took off into the water again. The big one and the calm one wanted permission to cross the line to go after her, but of course we said no."

"Good. I mean, you were being stupid, but I'm glad. Emmett's never cautious enough. He could have gotten hurt."

Kristoff snorted. "So did your vampire tell you we attacked for no reason and her totally innocent coven—"

"No," I interrupted. "Elsa told me the same story, just without quite as many details."

"Huh," Kristoff said under his breath, and he bent over to pick up a rock from among the millions of pebbles at our feet. With a casual flick, he sent it flying a good hundred meters out into the bay. "Well, the blackhead'll be back, I guess. We'll get another shot at her."

I shuddered; of course she would be back. Would Elsa really tell me next time? I wasn't sure. I'd have to keep an eye on Alice, to look for the signs that the pattern was about to repeat…

Kristoff didn't seem to notice my reaction. He was staring across the waves with a thoughtful expression on his face, his broad lips pursed.

"What are you thinking about?" I asked after a long, quiet time.

"I'm thinking about what you told me. About when the fortune-teller saw you cliff jumping and thought you'd committed suicide, and how it all got out of control… Do you realize that if you had just waited for me like you were supposed to, then the bl—Alicewouldn't have been able to see you jump? Nothing would have changed. We'd probably be in my garage right now, like any other Saturday. There wouldn't be any vampires in Forks, and you and me…" he trailed off, deep in thought.

My heart thumped at the picture he painted. It probably would have been that way, so easy, so simple. Like breathing.

"Elsa would have come back anyway." I finally said.

"Are you sure about that?" He asked, his tone slightly belligerent.

"Being apart didn't work out so well for her."

He started to say something, something angry from his expression, but he stopped himself, took a breath, and began again.

"Did you know Sam is mad at you?"

"Me?" It took me a second. "Oh. I see. He thinks they would have stayed away if I wasn't here."

"No. That's not it."

"What is it then?"

Kristoff leaned down to scoop up another rock. He turned it over and over in his fingers; his eyes were riveted on the black stone while he spoke in a low voice.

"When Sam saw… how you were at the beginning, when Billy told them how David worried about you, and then when you started jumping off cliffs…"

I made a face. No one was ever going to let me forget that.

Kristoff's eyes flashed up to mine. "He thought you were the one person in the world with as much reason to hate the Cullens as he does. Sam feels sort of… betrayed that you would just let them back into your life like they never hurt you."

I didn't believe for a second that Sam was the only one who felt that way. And the anger in my voice now was for both of them.

"I didn't just let them right back into my life, give me some credit. So you can tell Sam—"

"Look at that," Kristoff interrupted me, pointing to an eagle in the act of plummeting down toward the ocean from an incredible height. It checked itself at the last minute, only its talons breaking the surface of the waves, just for an instant. Then it flapped away, its wings straining against the load of the huge fish it had snagged.

"You see it everywhere," Kristoff said, his voice suddenly distant. "Nature taking its course—hunter and prey, the endless cycle of life and death."

I didn't understand the point of the nature lecture; I guessed that he was just trying to change the subject. But then he looked down at me with dark humor in his eyes.

"And yet, you don't see the fish trying to plant a kiss on the eagle. You never seethat." He grinned a mocking grin.

I grinned back tightly, though the anger was rising. "Maybe the fish was trying," I suggested. "It's hard to tell what a fish is thinking. Eagles are good-looking birds, you know."

"Is that what it comes down to?" His voice was abruptly sharper. "Good looks?"

"Don't be stupid, Kristoff."

"Is it the money, then?" he persisted.

"That's nice," I muttered, getting up from the tree. "I'm flattered that you think so much of me." I turned my back on him and paced away.

"Aw, don't get mad." He was right behind me; he gently caught my wrist and spun me around. "I'm serious! I'm trying to understand here, and I'm coming up blank."

His eyebrows pushed together in frustration, and his eyes were black in their deep shadow.

"I just… I loveher. Not because she's beautiful or because she'srich!" I spat the words at Kristoff. "I'd much rather she weren't either one. It would even out the gap between us just a little bit—because she'd still be the most loving and unselfish and brilliant anddecentperson I've ever met. Of course I love her. How hard is that to understand?"

"It's impossible to understand."

"Please, enlighten me, then, Kristoff." I let the sarcasm flow thick. "Whatisa valid reason for someone to love someone else? Since apparently I'm doing it wrong."

"I think the best place to start would be to look within your own species. That usually works."

"Well, that just sucks!" I snapped. "I guess I'm stuck with Makayla Newton after all."

Kristoff flinched back and bit his lip. I could see that my words had hurt him, but I was too mad and hurt to feel bad about that yet. He dropped my wrist and folded his arms across his chest, turning from me to glare toward the ocean.

"I'm human," he muttered, his voice almost inaudible.

"You're not as human as Makayla," I continued, still hurt. "Do you still think that's the most important consideration?"

"It's not the same thing." Kristoff didn't look away from the gray waves. "I didn't choose this."

I laughed once in disbelief. "Do you think Elsa did? She didn't know what was happening to her any more than you did. She didn't exactly sign up for this."

Kristoff was shaking his back and forth with a small, quick movement.

"But Kristoff, how can you judge them? Being a werewolf and all." I huffed.

"It's not the same," Kristoff repeated, glowering at me.

"I don't see why not. You could be abitmore understanding about the Cullens. You have no idea how truly good they are—to the core, Kristoff."

He frowned more deeply. "They shouldn't exist. Their existence goes against nature."

I stared at him for a long moment with one eyebrow raised incredulously. It was a while before he noticed.

"What?"

"Speaking of unnatural…," I hinted.

"Anna," he said, his voice slow and different. Aged. I realized that he sounded suddenly older than me—like a parent or a teacher. "What I am was born in me. It's part of who I am, who my family is, who we all are as a tribe—it's the reason why we're still here.

"Besides that"—he looked down at me, his black eyes unreadable—"Iamstill human."

He picked up my hand and pressed it to his fever-warm chest. Through his t-shirt, I could feel the steady beating of his heart under my palm.

"Normal humans can't throw motorcycles around the way you can."

He smiled a faint, half-smile. "Normal humans run away from monsters, Anna. And I never claimed to be normal. Just human."

Staying angry with Kristoff was too much work. I started to smile as I gently rubbed his chest.

"You look plenty human to me," I allowed. "At the moment."

"I feel human." He stared past me, his face far away. His lower lip trembled, and he bit down on it hard.

"Oh, Kristoff," I whispered, reaching for his hand.

This was why I was here. This was why I could take whatever reception waited for me when I got back. Because, underneath all the anger and the sarcasm, Kristoff was in pain. Right now, it was very clear in his eyes. I didn't know how to help him, but I knew I had to try. It was more than that I owed him. It was because his pain hurt me, too. Kristoff had become a part of me, and there was no changing that now.


	5. duty

"Are you okay, Kristoff? David said you were having a hard time… Isn't it getting any better?"

His warm hand curled around mine. "S'not so bad," he said, but he wouldn't meet my eyes.

He walked slowly back to the driftwood bench, staring at the rainbow-colored pebbles, and pulling me along at his side. I sat back down on our tree, but he sat on the wet, rocky ground rather than next to me. I wondered if it was so that he could hide his face more easily. He kept my hand.

I started babbling to fill the silence. "It's been so long since I was here. I've probably missed a ton of things. How are Sam and Emil? And Sven? Did Quil--?"

I broke off mid-sentence, remembering that Kristoff's friend Quil had been a sensitive subject.

"Ah, Quil," Kristoff sighed.

So then it must have happened—Quil must have joined the pack.

"I'm sorry," I mumbled.

To my surprise, Kristoff snorted. "Don't say that tohim."

"What do you mean?"

"Quil's not looking for pity. Just the opposite—he's jazzed. Totally thrilled."

This made no sense to me. All the other wolves had been so depressed at the idea of their friend sharing their fate. "Huh?"

Kristoff tilted his head back to look at me. He smiled and rolled his eyes.

"Quil thinks it's the coolest thing that's ever happened to him. Part of it is finally knowing what's going on. And he's excited to have his friends back—to be part of the 'in crowd.'" Kristoff snorted again. "Shouldn't be surprised, I guess. It's soQuil."

"Helikesit?"

"Honestly… most of them do," Kristoff admitted slowly. "There are definitely good sides to this—the speed, the freedom, the strength… the sense of—offamily… Sam and I are the only ones who ever felt really bitter. And Sam got past that a long time ago. So I'm the crybaby now." Kristoff laughed at himself.

"You're not a crybaby, Kristoff." I paused. There were so many things I wanted to know. "Why are you and Sam different? What happened to Sam anyway? What's his problem?" The questions tumbled out without room to answer them, and Kristoff laughed again.

"That's a long story."

"I told you a long story. Besides, I'm not in any hurry to get back," I said, and then I grimaced as I thought of the trouble I was in.

He looked up at me swiftly, hearing the double edge in my words. "Will she be mad at you?"

"Yes," I admitted. "She really hates it when I do things she considers… risky."

"Like hanging out with werewolves."

"Yeah."

Kristoff shrugged. "So don't go back. I'll sleep on the couch."

"That's a great idea," I grumbled. "Because then she would come looking for me."

Kristoff stiffened, and then smiled bleakly. "Would she?"

"If she was afraid I was hurt or something—probably."

"My idea's sounding better all the time."

"Please, Kristoff. That really bugs me."

"What does?"

"That you two are so ready to kill each other!" I complained. "It makes me crazy. Why can't you both just be civilized?"

"Is she ready to kill me?" Ktistoff asked with a grim smile.

"Not like you seem to be!" I snapped. "At leastshecan be a grown-up about this. She knows that hurting you would hurt me—and so she never would. You don't seem to care about that at all!"

"Yeah, right," Kristoff muttered. "I'm sure she's quite the pacifist."

"Ugh!" I ripped my hand out of his and pushed his head away. Then I pulled my knees up to my chest and wrapped my arms tightly around them.

I glared out toward the horizon.

Kristoff was quiet for a few minutes. Finally, he got up off the ground and sat beside me, putting his arm around my shoulders.

"Sorry," he said quietly. "I'll try to behave myself."

I didn't answer.

"I really do care, Anna." His thumb rubbed my shoulder. "I care about your feelings a lot. I'm really sorry."

I sighed, but didn't say anything.

"Do you still want to hear about Sam?" he offered.

I shrugged.

"Like I said, it's a long story. And very… strange. And sad. There's so many things about this new life I haven't had time to tell you the half of it. And this thing with Sam—well, I don't know if I'll even be able to explain it right."

His words pricked my curiosity in spite of my frustration.

"I'm listening," I finally said.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the side of his face pull up in a smile.

"Sam had it so much harder than the rest of us. Because he was the first, and he was alone, and he didn't have anyone to tell him what was happening. Sam's grandfather died before he was born, and his father has never been around. There was no one there to recognize the signs. The first time it happened—the first time he phased—he thought he'd gone insane. It took him two weeks to calm down enough to change back.

"This was before you came to Forks, so you wouldn't remember. Sam's mother and Liam Clearwater had the forest rangers searching for him, the police. People thought there had been an accident or something…"

"Liam?" I asked, surprised. Liam was Harry's oldest son. Hearing his name sent an automatic surge of pity through me. Harry Clearwater, David's life-long friend, had died of a heart attack this past spring.

His voice changed, became heavier. "Yeah. Liam and Sam were best friends in high school. Inseparable. They were always together…" he paused and glanced at me. "Everyone always just thought they were just close friends… but…" He trailed off, looking at me.

"Sam and Liam… were… they…" I couldn't find the words, but I felt how wide my eyes were.

"Yeah, it was a big secret. They didn't tell anyone, just kept it between themselves. They weren'tdatingor anything, but they just had this connection and, well, anyway, Liam was frantic when Sam disappeared."

"But Sam and Emily—"

"I'll get to that—it's part of the story," he said. He inhaled slowly, and then exhaled in a gust.

I supposed it was silly for me to imagine that Sam had never loved anyone before Emily. Most people fall in and out of love many times in their lives. It was just that I'd seen Sam with Emily, and I couldn't imagine him with someone else. The way he looked at her… well, it reminded me of a look I'd seen sometimes in Elsa's eyes—when she was looking at me.

"Sam came back," Kristoff said. "But he wouldn't talk to anyone about where he'd been. Rumors flew—that he was up to no good, mostly. And then Sam happened to run into Quil's grandfather one afternoon when Old Quil Ateara came to visit Mrs. Uley. Sam shook his hand. Old Quil just about had a stroke." Kristoff paused to laugh.

"Why?"

Kristoff put his hand on my cheek and pulled my face around to look at him—he was leaning toward me, his face just a few inches away. His palm burned my skin, like he had a fever.

"Oh, right," I breathed. It was strange, having my face so close to his with his hand hot against my skin. "Sam was running a temperature."

Kristoff laughed again. "Sam's hand felt like he'd left it sitting on a hot stovetop."

He was so close, I could feel his warm breath. I realized we were leaning in closer to each other, so I reached up casually, to take his hand away and free my face, but my fingers wound through his without consciously meaning to. He smiled and leaned back, I sat there blinking.

"So Mr. Ateara went straight to the other elders," Kristoff went on. "They were the only ones left who still knew, who remembered. Mr. Ateara, Billy, and Harry had actually seen their grandfathers make the change. When Old Quil told them, they met with Sam secretly and explained.

"It was easier when he understood—when he wasn't alone anymore. They knew he wouldn't be the only one affected by the Cullens' return"—He pronounced the name with unconscious bitterness—"but no one else was old enough So Sam waited for the rest of us to join him…"

"The Cullens had no idea," I said in a whisper. "They didn't think that werewolves still existed here. They didn't know that coming here would change you."

"It doesn't change the fact that it did."

"Remind me not to get on your bad side."

"You never could, so don't worry about it." He snorted. "I wish I could be as forgiving as you are, though."

"Oh come on, Kristoff, grow up." I rolled my eyes.

"I wish I could," he murmured quietly.

I stared at him, trying to make sense of his response. "What?"

Kristoff chuckled. "One of those many strange things I mentioned."

"You… can't… grow up?" I said blankly. "You're what? Not…aging? Is that a joke?"

"Nope." He popped his lips on theP.

I felt blood flood my face. I tried to speak, but only bursts of frustrated air came out.

"Anna? What did I say?"

I was on my feet again, my hands ran through my hair in disbelief.

"You. Are. Not. Aging." I repeated in angry shock.

Kristoff tugged my arm gently, trying to make me sit. "None of us are. What's wrong?"

"God, I'm going to be some old woman surrounded by perpetual teenagers aren't I? I'm not going to be able to have any of you stick around—I'm not going to be creepy old Winters with all her beautiful teenage friends, now am I? Oh god, how is this fair?" I felt myself deflate as the image of me, white-haired, sitting in a wheelchair, while Elsa, still seventeen and beautiful, spoon-fed me my dinner before wheeling me down to La Push to visit Kristoff, still just as young and beautiful, flashed through my head.

"Take it easy, Anna."

"But, Kristoff, I'm literally surrounded by immortals. How do you think that makes me feel?"

"It's not as bad as you seem to think it is. Sit down and I'll explain."

"I'll stand."

He rolled his eyes. "Okay. Whatever you want. But listen, Iwillget older… someday."

"Explain."

He patted the tree. I glowered for a second, but then sat; my anger had burned out as suddenly as it had flared and I'd calmed down enough to realize I was being stupid.

"When we get enough control to quit…," Kristoff said. "When we stop phasing for a solid length of time, we age again. It's not easy." He shook his head, abruptly doubtful. "It's gonna take a really long time to learn that kind of restraint, I think. Even Sam's not there yet. 'Course it doesn't help that there's a huge coven of vampires right down the road. We can't even think about quitting when the tribe needs protectors. But you shouldn't get all bent out of shape about it, anyway, because I'm already older than you, physically at least."

"What are you talking about?"

"Look at me, babe. Do I look seventeen?"

I glanced up and down his tall, muscular frame, trying to be unbiased. "Not exactly, I guess."

"Not at all. Because we reach full growth inside of a few months when the werewolf gene gets triggered. It's one hell of a growth spurt." He made a face. "Physically, I'm probably twenty-five or something. So there's no need for you to freak out about being too old for me for at least another seven years."

Twenty-five or something. The idea messed with my head. But I remembered that growth spurt—I remembered watching him shoot up and fill out right before my eyes. I remembered how he would look different from one day to the next… I shook my head, feeling dizzy.

"So, did you want to hear about Sam, or did you want to freak out at me more for things that are out of my control?"

I took a deep breath. "Sorry. That was stupid of me. Age is a touchy subject, I guess."

Kristoff's eyes tightened, and he looked as if he were trying to decide how to word something.

Since I didn't want to talk about the truly touchy stuff—our escape plans, contingencies, or treaties that might be broken by said contingencies, I prompted him. "So once Sam understood what was going on, one he had Billy and Harry and Mr. Ateara, you said it wasn't so hard anymore. And, like you also said, there are the cool parts…" I hesitated briefly. "Why does Sam hate them so much? Why does he wish I would hate them?"

Kristoff sighed. "This is the sad part."

"Okay, I'm ready."

"Okay," he sighed again, "So, you're right. Sam knew what was going on, and everything was almost okay. In most ways, his life was back to, well, not normal. But better." Then Kristoff's expression tightened, like something painful was coming. "Sam couldn't tell Liam. We aren't supposed to tell anyone who doesn't have to know. And it wasn't really safe for him to be around Liam—but he cheated, just like I did with you. Liam was furious that Sam wouldn't just tell him what was going on—where he'd been, where he went at night, why he was always so exhausted—it started to drive a wedge between them, even if they did love each other."

"Did Liam find out? Is that what happened?"

He shook his head. "No, that wasn't the problem. Liam's cousin, Emily Young, came down from the Makah reservation to visit him one weekend."

I gasped. "Emily is Liam's cousin?"

"Second cousins. They're close, though. They were like brother and sister when they were kids."

"That's… horrible. How could Sam…?" I trailed off, shaking my head.

"Don't judge him just yet." Kristoff sighed. "Sam was the leader of the pack. The chief, I guess."

"What does that have to do with anything?" I asked, confused.

"Being the leader… means you have a duty. A duty to the pack, to the tribe. It's a responsibility to be strong, to be a leader, and to ensure the future of the pack."

Something clicked in the back of my mind. "Sam couldn't stay with Liam." I guessed.

Kristoff's eyes strayed to the ocean. "Sam did love Liam. But he knew he had a responsibility. The elders never forced him to do anything, but they did tell him he needed to think of the pack—of the tribe." Kristoff laughed without humor. "And, when Sam saw Emily, I mean, something changed in him. Sam reasons that it was an instinct deep inside—like a werewolf thing—that made him justknowthat Emily was the one…"

"Like love at first sight?" I raised an eyebrow.

"Sort of," Kristoff continued. "There are legends, that there's something about being a werewolf where we just… connect with people—we justknow. Not even the elder's know if it's true, but Sam believes it. He has to, I guess."

"Do you believe it?" I asked quietly.

"I don't know."

I didn't know what to say, I just watched Kristoff's face quietly.

Finally, he spoke again. "It doesn't matter, anyway." He shrugged indifferently. "You wanted to know what happened to Sam to make him hate the vampires for changing him, to make him hate himself. And that's what happened. He put the tribe first. He broke Liam's heart. He went back on every promise he'd ever made him. Every day Sam has to see the accusation in Liam's eyes, and know that he's right."

He stopped talking abruptly, as if he'd said something he hadn't meant to.

"How did Emily deal with this? If she was so close to Liam…?" Sam and Emily were utterlyrighttogether, two puzzle pieces, shaped for each other exactly. Still… How had Emily gotten past the fact that Sam had belonged to someone else? Her brother, almost.

"Emily didn't even know about Sam and Liam. Not at first. When he told her, she was angry at Sam for breaking Liam's heart. But she loved Sam, too. She fell for him just as bad as he did for her." Kristoff sighed. "But it just got worse. You know how she got hurt?"

"Yeah." The story in Forks was that she was mauled by a bear, but I was in on the secret.

Werewolves are unstable, Elsa had said.The people near them get hurt.

"Well, Sam was in a real bad place. Liam hated him, Emily was angry with him. He was a mess. He felt as lost and alone as he did when he first phased. He couldn't keep control… And Emily came to talk to him, but he couldn't keep his emotions in check…" He trailed off. "Sam was so horrified, so sickened by himself, so full of hate for what he'd done… He would have thrown himself under a bus if it would have made Emily feel better. He might have anyway, just to escape what he'd done. To her, to Liam… He was shattered…. Then, somehow, after Emily recovered she forgave him. She saw how much pain he was in. Suddenly,shewas the one comfortinghim, and after that…"

Kristoff didn't finish his thought, and I sensed the story had gotten too personal to share.

"Poor Emily," I whispered. "Poor Sam. Poor Liam…"

"Yeah, Liam got the worst end of the stick," he agreed. "He puts on a brave face. He's going to be a groomsman."

I gazed away, toward the jagged rocks that rose from the ocean like stubby broken-off fingers on the south rim of the harbor, while I tried to make sense of it all. I could feel his eyes on my face, waiting for me to say something.

"Did it happen to you?" I finally asked, still looking away. "This love-at-first-sight thing?"

"No," he answered briskly. "We don't even know if it's a real thing. Sam believes it is… but I think he has to."

"Hmm," I said, trying to sort through my thoughts. I didn't know how to explain what I was feeling. Was I glad that there wasn't some mystical, wolfy connection between the two of us? Our relationship was confusing enough as it was. I didn't need any more of the supernatural than I already had to deal with.

He was quiet, too, and the silence dragged on.

"That's why Sam was so against me telling you…" Kristoff finally whispered.

"What?" I asked surprised.

"He couldn't be with Liam," Kristoff explained. "It wasn't good for the pack. It's our duty to preserve the pack—the line—and protect the tribe."

"Oh," I said, for lack of anything more insightful to say.

"It took some heat off me when Jared met Kim." Kristoff rolled his eyes.

"Jared met someone?" I asked quickly, eager to steer the conversation in a different direction.

"Yeah, just some girl from school. He'd never noticed her before, but after he changed, she was the only person to go up to him and ask him if he was doing okay. He had never noticed her before, but she was so kind and she cared. So, he fell pretty hard for her. Kim was thrilled. She'd had a huge crush on him. She'd had his last name tacked on to the end of hers all over in her diary." He laughed.

I frowned. "Did Jared tell you that? He shouldn't have."

Kristoff bit his lip. "I guess I shouldn't laugh. It was funny, though."

"Some soul mate."

He sighed. "Jared didn't tell us anything on purpose. I already told you this part, remember?"

"Oh, yeah. You can hear each other's thoughts, but only when you're wolves, right?"

"Right. Just like your vampire."

"Elsa," I corrected.

"Sure, sure. That how come I know so much about how Sam felt. It's not like he would have told us all that if he'd had a choice. Actually, that's something we all hate." The bitterness was abruptly harsh in his voice. "It's awful. No privacy, no secrets. Everything you're ashamed of, laid out for everyone to see." He shuddered.

"It sounds horrible," I whispered.

"Itissometimes helpful when we need to coordinate," he said grudgingly. "Once in a blue moon, when some bloodsucker crosses into our territory. Laurent was fun. And if the Cullen's hadn't gotten in our way last Saturday… ugh!" he groaned. "We could have had Gerda!" His fists clenched into angry balls.

I flinched. As much as I worried about Jasper or Emmett getting hurt, it was nothing like the panic I felt at the idea of Kristoff going up against Gerda. Emmett and Jasper were the closest thing to indestructible I could imagine. Kristoff was still warm, still comparatively human. Mortal. I thought of Kristoff facing Gerda, her brilliant black hair blowing around her oddly feline face… and shuddered.

Kristoff looked up at me with a curious expression. "But isn't it like that for you all the time? Havingherin your head?"

"Who? Elsa? Oh, no. She's never in my head. She only wishes."

Kristoff's expression became confused.

"She can't hear me," I explained, my voice a tiny bit smug from old habit. "I'm the only one like that for her. For any vampire who can do mind stuff. We don't knowwhythat is."

"Weird," Kristoff said.

"Yeah." The smugness faded. "It probably means there's something wrong with my brain," I admitted.

"I already knew there was something wrong with your brain," Kristoff teased, bumping into me with his shoulder.

"Thanks." I laughed.

The sun broke through the clouds suddenly, a surprise I hadn't been expecting, and I had to narrow my eyes against the glare off the water. Everything changed color—the waves turned from gray to blue, the trees from dull olive to brilliant jade, and the rainbow-hued pebbles glittered like jewels.

We squinted for a moment, letting our eyes adjust. There were no sounds besides the hollow roar of the waves that echoed from every side of the sheltered harbor, the soft grinding of the stones against each other under the water's movement, and the cry of the gulls high overhead. It was very peaceful.

Kristoff settled closer to me, so that he was leaning against my arm. He was so warm. After a minute of this, I shrugged out of my rain jacket. He made a little sound of contentment in the back of his throat, and rested his check on the top of my head. I could feel the sun heat my skin—though it was note quite as warm as Kristoff—and reveled in the warmth.

Absentmindedly, I twisted my right hand to the side, and watched the sunlight glitter subtly off the scar Hans had left there.

"What are you thinking about?" he murmured.

"The sun."

"Mmm. It's nice."

"What are you thinking about?" I asked.

He chuckled to himself. "I was remembering that moronic movie you took me to. And Makayla Newton puking all over everything.

I laughed, too, surprised by how important that memory had become to me over time. So much had changed that night… It was the last night Kristoff and I had had before he'd learned the truth about his heritage. The last human memory. An oddly pleasant memory now.

"I miss that," Kristoff said. "The way it used to be so easy… uncomplicated. I'm glad I've got a good memory." He sighed.

He felt the sudden tension in my body as his words triggered a memory of my own.

"What is it?" he asked.

"About that good memory of yours…" I pulled away from him so that I could read his face. At the moment, it was confused. "Do you mind telling me what you were doing Monday morning? You were thinking something that bothered Elsa."Botheredwasn't quite the word for it, but I wanted an answer, so I thought it was best not to start out too severely.

Kristoff's face brightened with understanding, and a slightly guilty look crossed his face. "I was just thinking about you. Didn't like that much, did she?"

"Me? What about me?"

Kristoff laughed, though the guilty look remained. "I was remembering the way you looked that night Sam found you—I've seen it in his head, and it's like I was there; that memory has always haunted Sam, you know. And then I remembered how you looked the first time you came to my place. I bet you don't even realize what a mess you were then, Anna. It was weeks before you looked like yourself again. And I remembered how you always looked sosad, how your eyes were so empty…" Kristoff winced, and then shook his head. "It's hard for me to remember how sad you were, and it wasn'tmyfault. So, when I realized she could see it too, I figured she should get a good look at what she'd done."

I smacked his shoulder. It hurt my hand. "Kristoff Black, don't you ever do that again! Promise me you won't."

"No way. She deserves to see the damage she did!"

"Kristoff, you listen—"

"Oh, come on, babe. When am I ever going to see her again? Don't worry about it."

I got to my feet, and he caught my hand as I started to walk away. I tried to tug free.

"I'm leaving Kristoff."

"No, don't go yet." He protested, his hand tightening around mine.

"I don't like when you're like this, Kristoff." I said, turning back to him, "It's hard being around you."

"Then I'll be better," he promised, his other hand reaching up to take mine. "I'm sorry. And… okay, I won't do it again. Promise."

I sighed. "Thanks, Kristoff."

"Come on, we'll go back to my house," he said eagerly.

"Actually, I think I really do need to go. Angela Weber is expecting me, I promised I'd help her with her graduation announcements. Besides, Alice is worried, I'm sure. I don't want to upset her too much."

"But you just got here!"

"It feels that way," I agreed. I glared up at the sun, somehow already directly overhead. How had the time passed so quickly?

His eyebrows pulled down over his eyes. "I don't know when I'll see you again," he said in a quiet voice, and I could hear the hurt.

"I'll come back the next time she's away," I promised.

"Away?" Kristoff rolled his eyes. "That's a nice way to describe what she's doing. Disgusting parasites."

"Kristoff! What did I just tell you?" I tried to pull my hands free. He held them tightly.

"Sorry, sorry," he said quickly, immediately repentant. He gently tugged me back towards him. "Knee-jerk reaction."

"Listen, Kristoff, if I'm going to try and come back again, you're going to have to get something straight, okay?"

He waited.

"See," I explained. "I don't care who's a vampire and who's a werewolf. That's irrelevant. You are Kristoff, and she is Elsa, and I am Anna. And nothing else matters."

His eyes narrowed slightly. "But Iama werewolf," he said unwillingly. "And sheisa vampire," he added with revulsion.

"And I'm a Virgo!" I said, exasperated.

He raised his eyebrows, measuring my expression with curious eyes. Finally, he shrugged.

"If you can really see it that way…"

"I can. I do."

"Okay. Just Anna and Kristoff. None of those freaky Virgos here." He smiled at me, the warm, familiar smile that I had missed so much. I felt the answering smile spread across my face.

Still sitting, he pulled me into a hug, wrapping his huge arms around my waist. I rested my head on top of his.

"I've really missed you, Kristoff," I admitted. Running my fingers through his hair.

"Me, too," He said, and I could hear the wide smile in his voice. "More than you know." He gently pushed me back to look at my face. His eyes were happy and clear, free from all the angry bitterness. "Will you come back soon?"

"As soon as I can," I promised.

And he pulled me back into another hug.


	6. Switzerland

As I drove home, I wasn't paying much attention to the road that shimmered wetly in the sun. I was thinking about the flood of information Kristoff had shared with me, trying to sort it out, trying to reconcile it all. Despite the overload, I felt lighter. Seeing Kristoff smile, having all the secrets thrashed out… it didn't make things perfect, but it made them better. I was right to have gone. Kristoff needed me. And obviously, I thought as I squinted into the glare, there was no danger.

It came out of nowhere. One minute there was nothing but bright highway in my rearview mirror. The next minute, the sun was glinting off a silver Volvo right on my tail.

"Aw, crap," I whimpered.

I considered pulling over. But I was too much of a coward to face her right away. I'd been counting on some prep time… and having David nearby as a buffer. At least that would force her to keep her voice down.

The Volvo followed inches behind me. I kept my eyes on the road ahead.

She followed me until I pulled up to the curb in front of the Weber's house. She didn't stop, and I didn't look up as she passed. I didn't want to see the expression on her face. I ran up the short concrete walk to Angela's door as soon as she was out of sight.

Ben answered the door before I could finish knocking, like he'd been standing right behind it.

"Hey, Anna!" he said, surprised.

"Hi, Ben. Er, is Angela here?" I wondered if Angela had forgotten our plans, and cringed at the thought of going home early.

"Sure," Ben said just as Angela called, "Anna!" and appeared at the top of the stairs.

Ben peered around me as we both heard the sound of a car on the road; the sound didn't scare me—this engine sputtered to a stop, followed by the loud pop of a backfire. Nothing like the purr of the Volvo. This must be the visitor Ben had been waiting for.

"Austin's here," Ben said as Angela reached his side.

A horn honked on the street.

"I'll see you later," Ben promised. "Miss you already."

He threw his arms around Angela's neck and pulled her face down to his height so that he could kiss her enthusiastically. After a second of this, Austin honked again.

"Bye, Ang! Love you!" Ben shouted as he dashed past me.

Angela swayed, her face slightly pink, then recovered herself and waved until Ben and Austin were out of sight. Then she turned to me and grinned ruefully.

"Thank you for doing this, Anna," she said. "From the bottom of my heart. Not only are you saving my hands from permanent injury, you also just spared me two long hours of plot-less, badly dubbed marital arts film." She sighed in relief.

"Happy to be of service." I was feeling a bit less panicked, able to breathe a little more evenly. It felt so ordinary here. Angela's easy human life was oddly reassuring. It was nice to know that life was normalsomewhere.

I followed Angela up the stairs to her room. She kicked toys out of the way as she went. The house was unusually quiet.

"Where's your family?"

"My parents took the twins to a birthday party in Port Angeles. I can't believe you're really going to help me with this. Ben's pretending he has tendonitis." She made a face.

"I don't mind at all," I said, and then I walked into Angela's room and saw the stacks of waiting envelopes.

"Oh!" I gasped. Angela turned to look at me, apologies in her eyes. I could see why she'd been putting this off, and why Ben had weaseled out.

"I thought you were exaggerating," I admitted.

"I wish. Are you sure you want to do this?"

"Put me to work. I've got all day."

Angela divided a pile in half and put her mother's address book between us on her desk.

"Jeremy wanted to come help, too, but he's still not done with his speech and he's freaking out." Angela chuckled softly.

"No worries, we've got this." I smiled.

For a while we concentrated, and there was just the sound of our pens scratching quietly across the paper.

"What's Elsa doing tonight?" she asked after a few minutes.

My pen dug into the envelope I was working on. "Emmett's home for the weekend. They'resupposedto be hiking."

"You say that like you're not sure."

I shrugged.

"You're lucky Elsa has her brothers for all the hiking and camping. I don't know what I'd do if Ben didn't have Austin for the guy stuff."

"Yeah, the outdoors thing is not really for me. And there's no way I'd ever be able to keep up."

Angela laughed. "I prefer the indoors myself."

She focused on her pile for a minute. I wrote out four more addresses. There was never any pressure to fill a pause with meaningless chatter around Angela. Like David, she was comfortable with silence.

But, like David, she was also too observant sometimes.

"Is something wrong?" she asked in a low voice now. "You seem… anxious."

I smiled sheepishly. "Is it that obvious?"

"Not really."

She was probably lying to make me feel better.

"You don't have to talk about it unless you want to," she assured me. "I'll listen if you think it will help."

I was about to saythanks, but no thanks. After all, there were just too many secrets I was bound to keep. I really couldn't discuss my problems with someone human. That was against the rules.

And yet, with a strange, sudden intensity, that's exactly what I wanted. I wanted to talk to a normal human friend. I wanted to moan a little bit, like any other teenager. I wanted my problems to be that simple. It would also be nice to have someone outside the whole vampire-werewolf mess to put things into perspective. Someone unbiased.

"I'll mind my own business," Angela promised, smiling down at the address she was working on.

"No," I said. "You're right. I am anxious. It's… it's Elsa."

"What's wrong?"

It was so easy to talk to Angela. When she asked a question like that, I could tell that she wasn't just morbidly curious or looking for gossip, like someone else would have been. She cared that I was upset.

"Oh, she's mad at me."

"That's hard to imagine," she said. "What's she mad about?"

I sighed. "Do you remember Kristoff Black?"

"Ah," she said.

"Yeah."

"She's jealous."

"No, notjealous…" I should have kept my mouth shut. There was no way to explain this right. But I wanted to keep talking anyway. I hadn't realized I was so starved for human conversation. "Elsa thinks Kristoff is… a bad influence, I guess. Sort of… dangerous. You know how much trouble I got in a few months back… It's ridiculous, though."

I was surprised to see Angela shaking her head.

"What?" I asked.

"Anna, I've seen how Kristoff Black looks at you. I'd bet the real problem is jealousy."

"It's not like that with Kristoff. I mean, it almost was, I guess, but it's not now."

"But it was almost that way."

I frowned. "Almost… yeah…"

"Elsa's only human, Anna. She's going to react like any other girl."

I grimaced. I didn't have a response to that.

She patted my hand. "She'll get over it."

"I hope so. Kristoff's going through kind of a tough time. He needs me."

"You and Kristoff are pretty close, aren't you?"

"Yeah, we are," I agreed.

"And Elsa doesn't like him… That must be hard. I wonder how Ben would handle that?" she mused.

I half-smiled. "Probably just like any other person."

She grinned. "Probably."

Then she changed the subject. Angela wasn't one to pry, and she seemed to sense I wouldn't—couldn't—say anymore.

"I got my dorm assignment yesterday. The farthest building from campus, naturally."

"Does Ben know where he's staying yet?"

"The closest dorm to campus. He's got all the luck. How about you? Did you decide where you're going?"

I stared down, concentrating on the clumsy scrawl of my handwriting. For a second I was distracted by the thought of Angela and Ben at the University of Washington. They would be off to Seattle in just a few months. Would it be safe then? Would the wild young vampire menace have moved elsewhere? Would there be a new place by then, some other city flinching from horror-movie headlines?

I tried to shake it off and answered her question a beat late. "Alaska, I think. The university there in Juneau."

I could hear the surprise in her voice. "Alaska? Oh. Really? I mean, that's great. I just figured you'd go somewhere… warmer."

I laughed a little, still staring at the envelope. "Yeah. Forks has really changed my perspective on life."

"And Elsa?"

Though her name set butterflies fluttering in my stomach, I looked up and grinned at her. "Alaska's not too cold for Elsa, either."

She grinned back. "Of course not." And then she sighed. "It's so far. You won't be able to come home very often. I'll miss you. Will you text me?"

A swell of quiet sadness crashed over me; maybe it was a mistake to get even closer to Angela now. But wouldn't it be sadder still to miss these last chances? I shook off the unhappy thoughts, so that I could answer her teasingly.

"If I can type again after this." I nodded toward the stack of envelopes I'd done.

We laughed, and it was easy then to chat cheerfully about classes and majors while we finished the rest—all I had to do was not think about it. Anyway, there were more urgent things to worry about today.

I helped her put the stamps on, too. I was afraid to leave.

"How's your hand?" she asked.

I flexed my fingers. "I think I'll recover the full use of it… someday."

The door banged downstairs, and we both looked up.

"Ang?" Ben called.

I tried to smile, but my lips trembled. "I guess that's my cue to leave."

"You don't have to go. Though he's probably going to describe the movie for me… in detail."

"David will be wondering where I am anyway."

"Thanks for helping me."

"I had a good time, actually. We should do something like this again. It was nice to have some friend time."

"Definitely."

There was a light knock on the bedroom door.

"Come in, Ben," Angela said.

I got up and stretched.

"Hey, Anna! You survived," Ben greeted me quickly before going to take my place by Angela. He eyed our work. "Nice job. Too bad there's nothing left to do, I would have…" He let the thought trail off, and then restarted excitedly. "Ang, I can't believe you missed this one! It was awesome. There was this final fight sequence—the choreography was unbelievable! This one guy—well, you're going to have to see it to know what I'm talking about—"

Angela rolled her eyes at me.

"See you at school," I said with a nervous laugh.

She sighed. "See you."

I was jumpy on the way out to my truck, but the street was empty. I spent the whole drive glancing anxiously in all my mirrors, but there was never any sign of the silver car.

Her car was not in front of the house, either, though that meant little.

"Anna?" David called when I opened the front door.

"Hey, Dad."

I found him in the living room, in front of the TV.

"So, how was your day?"

"Good," I said. Might as well tell him everything—he'd hear it from Billy soon enough. Besides, it would make him happy. "They didn't need me at work, so I went down to La Push."

There wasn't enough surprise in his face. Billy had already talked to him.

"How's Kristoff?" David asked, attempting to sound indifferent.

"Good," I said, just as casual.

"You get over to the Webers'?"

"Yep. We got all her announcements addressed."

"That's nice." David smiled a wide smile. He was strangely focused, considering that there was a game on. "I'm glad you spent some time with your friends today."

"Me, too."

I ambled toward the kitchen, looking for busy work. Unfortunately, David had already cleaned up his lunch. I stood there for a few minutes, staring at the bright patch of light the sun made on the floor. But I knew I couldn't delay forever.

"I'm going to go study," I announced glumly as I headed up the stairs.

"See you later," David called after me.

If I survive, I thought to myself.

I shut my bedroom door carefully before I turned to face my room.

Of course she was there. She stood against the wall across from me, in the shadow beside the open window. Her face was hard and her posture tense. She glared at me wordlessly.

I cringed, waiting for the torrent, but it didn't come. She just continued to glare, possibly too angry to speak.

"Hi," I finally said.

Her face could have been carved from stone. I counted to a hundred in my head, but there was no change.

"Er… so, I'm still alive," I began.

A growl rumbled low in her chest, but her expression didn't change.

"No harm done," I insisted with a shrug.

She moved. Her eyes closed, and she pinched the bridge of het nose between the fingers of her right hand.

"Anna," she whispered. "Do you haveanyidea how close I came to crossing the line today? To breaking the treaty and coming after you? Do you know what that would have meant?"

I gasped and her eyes opened. They were as cold and hard as night.

"You can't!" I said too loudly. I worked to modulate the volume of my voice so David wouldn't hear, but I wanted to shout the words. "Elsa, they'd use any excuse for a fight. They'd love that. You can't ever break the rules!"

"Maybe they aren't the only ones who would enjoy a fight."

"Don't you start," I snapped. "You made the treaty—you stick to it."

"If he'd hurt you—"

"Enough!" I cut her off. "There's nothing to worry about. Kristoff isn't dangerous."

"Anna." She rolled her eyes. "You aren't exactly the best judge of what is or isn't dangerous."

"I know I don't have to worry about Kristoff. And neither do you."

She ground her teeth together. Her hands were balled up in fists at her sides. She was still standing against the wall, and I hated the space between us.

I took a deep breath, and crossed the room. She didn't move when I wrapped my arms around her. Next to the warmth of the last of the afternoon sun streaming through the window, her skin felt especially icy. She seemed like ice, too, frozen the way she was.

"I'm sorry I made you anxious," I muttered.

She sighed, and relaxed a little. Her arms wound around my waist.

"Anxiousis a bit of an understatement," she murmured. "It was a very long day."

"You weren't supposed to know about it," I reminded her. "I thought you'd be hunting longer."

I looked up at her face, at her defensive eyes; I hadn't noticed in the stress of the moment, but they were too dark. The rings under them were deep purple. I frowned in disapproval.

"When Alice saw you disappear, I came back," she explained.

"You shouldn't have done that. Now you'll have to go away again." My frown intensified.

"I can wait."

"That's ridiculous. I mean, I know she couldn't see me with Kristoff, but you should have known—"

"But I didn't," she broke in. "And you can't expect me to let you—"

"Oh, yes, I can," I interrupted her. "That's exactly what I expect—"

"This won't happen again."

"That's right! Because you're not going to overreact next time."

"Because there isn't going to be a next time."

"I understand when you have to leave, even if I don't like it—"

"That's not the same. I'm not risking my life."

"Neither am I."

"Werewolves constitute a risk."

"So do vampires."

"I'm not negotiating this, Anna."

"Neither am I."

Her hands were in fists gain. I could feel them against my back.

The words popped out thoughtlessly. "Is this really just about my safety?"

"What do you mean?" she demanded.

"You aren't…" Angela's theory seemed plausible, even given the supernatural circumstances of the situation. "I mean, you know better than to be jealous, right?"

She raised one eyebrow. "Do I?"

"Be serious."

"Easily—there's nothing remotely humorous about this."

I frowned suspiciously. "Or… is this something else altogether? Some vampires-and-werewolves-are-always-enemies-nonsense? Is this just a testosterone-fueled—"

Her eyes blazed. "This isonlyabout you. All I care is that you're safe."

The black fire in her eyes was persuasive, but I had my doubts.

"Okay," I sighed. "I want you to know something—when it comes to all thisenemiesnonsense, I'm out. I am a neutral country. I am Switzerland. I refuse to be affected by territorial disputes between mythical creatures. Kristoff is my best friend. You are mygirlfriend. I don't care who's a werewolf and who's a vampire. If Angela turns out to be a witch, and Jeremy is actually a banshee, they can join the party, too."

She stared at me silently through narrowed eyes.

"Switzerland," I repeated again for emphasis.

She frowned at me, and then sighed. "Anna…," she began, but she paused, and her nose wrinkled in disgust.

"What now?"

"Well… don't be offended, but you smell like a dog," she told me.

And then she smiled crookedly, so I knew the fight was over. For now.

Elsa had to make up for the missed hunting trip, and so she was leaving Friday night with Jasper, Emmett, and Carlisle to hit some reserve in Northern California with a mountain lion problem.

We'd come to no agreement on the werewolf issue, but I didn't feel guilty calling Kristoff—during my brief window of opportunity when Elsa took the Volvo home before climbing back in through my window—to let him know I'd be coming over on Saturday again. It wasn't sneaking around. Elsa knew how I felt. And if she broke my truck again, then I'd have Kristoff pick me up. Forks was neutral, just like Switzerland—just like me.

So when I got off work Thursday and it was Alice rather than Elsa waiting for me in the Volvo, I was not suspicious at first. The passenger door was open, and music I didn't recognize was shaking the frame when the bass played.

"Hey, Alice," I shouted over the wailing as I climbed in. "Where's your sister?"

She was singing along to the song, her beautiful voice weaving through it with a complicated harmony. She nodded at me, ignoring my question as she concentrated on the music.

I shut my door and put my hands over my ears. She grinned, and turned the volume down until it was just background. Then she hit the locks and the gas in the same second.

"What's going on?" I asked, starting to feel uneasy. "Where is Elsa?"

She shrugged. "They left early."

"Oh." I felt a sting of disappointment. I was looking forward to seeing her today. But, if she left early, that meant she'd be back sooner, I supposed.

"All the boys went, and we're having a slumber party!" she announced in a trilling, singsong voice.

"A slumber party?" I repeated, the suspicion settling in.

"Aren't you excited?" she crowed.

I met her animated gaze for a long second.

"You're kidnapping me, aren't you?"

She laughed and nodded. "Till Saturday. Esme cleared it with David; you're staying with me two nights, and I will drive you to and from school tomorrow."

I huffed and slumped back into my seat.

"Sorry," Alice said, sounding only minutely penitent. "She paid me off."

"I'm not mad atyou, Alice." I sighed. "Wait, how?"

"The Porsche. It's exactly like the one I stole in Italy." She sighed happily. "I'm not supposed to drive it around Forks, but if you want, we could see how long it takes to get from here to L.A.—I bet I could have you back by midnight."

I took a deep breath. "Tempting, but I'll pass," I sighed.

We wound, always too fast, down the long drive. Alice pulled around to the garage, and I quickly looked over the cars. Emmett's big jeep was there, with a shiny canary yellow Porsche between it and Royal's red convertible.

Alice hopped out gracefully and went to stroke her hand along the length of her bribe. "Pretty, isn't it?"

"It's gorgeous, Alice," I conceded, gawking. "She gave youthatjust for two days of holding me hostage?"

Alice made a face.

A second later, comprehension came and I gasped in horror. "It's for every time she's gone, isn't it?"

She nodded.

I slammed my door and stomped toward the house. She danced along next to me, still unrepentant.

"Alice, don't you think this is just a little bit controlling? Just a tiny bit psychotic, maybe?"

"Not really." She sniffed. "You don't seem to grasp how dangerous a young werewolf can be. Especially when I can't see them. Elsa has no way to know if you're safe. You shouldn't be so reckless."

My voice turned cold. "Yes, because a vampire slumber party is the pinnacle of safety conscious behavior."

Alice laughed. "I'll give you a manicure and everything," she promised.

It wasn't so bad, except for the fact that I was being held against my will. Esme brought Italian food—the good stuff, all the way from Port Angeles—and Alice was prepared with my favorite movies. Even Royal was there, much to my surprise, quietly in the background. Alice did insist on the manicure, and I wondered if she was working from a list—maybe something she'd compiled from watching bad sitcoms.

"How late do you want to stay up?" she asked when my nails were glistening with a clear polish. Her enthusiasm remained untouched by my mood.

"I shouldn't stay up. We have school in the morning."

She pouted.

"Wait, where am I supposed to sleep, anyway?" I measured the couch with my eyes. It was little short. "Can't you just keep me under the surveillance at my house?"

"What kind of slumber party would that be?" Alice shook her head in exasperation. "You're sleeping in Elsa's room."

I sighed. Her black leather sofawaslonger than this one. Actually, the gold carpet in her room was probably thick enough that the floor wouldn't be half bad either.

"Can I go back to my place to get my things, at least?"

She grinned. "Already taken care of."

"Am I allowed to make phone calls?"

"David knows where you are."

"I wasn't going to call David." I frowned. "Apparently, I have some plans to reschedule."

"Oh." She deliberated. "I'm not sure about that."

"Alice!" I glared. "I'm going to call Kristoff."

"Okay, okay," she said, flitting from the room. She was back in half a second, my cell phone in hand. "She didn'tspecificallyprohibit this…" she murmured to herself as she handed it to me.

"Alice, when did you take my phone?"

She grinned mischievously.

I rolled my eyes and dialed Kristoff's number, hoping he wasn't out running with his friends tonight. Luck was with me—Kristoff was the one to answer.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Kristoff, its me." Alice watched me with expressionless eyes for a second, before she turned and went to sit between Royal and Esme on the sofa.

"Hi, Anna," Kristoff said, suddenly cautious. "What's up?"

"Nothing good. I can't come over Saturday after all."

It was silent for a minute. "Stupid bloodsucker," he finally muttered. "Sorry, Anna." He apologized, then he exhaled. "I thought she was leaving. Can't you have a life when she's gone? Or does she lock you in a coffin?"

I laughed.

"I don't think that's funny."

"I'm only laughing because you're close," I told him. "But she's going to be here Saturday, so it doesn't matter."

"Will she be feeding there in Forks, then?" Kristoff asked cuttingly.

"No." I wasn't even irritated. I wasn't that far from being as angry as he was. "She left early."

"Oh. Well, hey, come over now, then," he said with sudden enthusiasm. "It's not that late. Or I'll come up to David's."

"I wish. I'm not at David's," I said sourly. "I'm kind of being held prisoner."

He was silent as that sunk in, and then he growled. "We'll come and get you," he promised in a flat voice, slipping automatically into a plural.

A chill slide down my spine, but I answered in a light and teasing voice. "Tempting. Ihavebeen tortured—Alice painted my nails."

"I'm serious."

"Don't be. They're just trying to keep me safe."

He growled again.

"I know it's silly, but their hearts are in the right place."

"Theirhearts!" he scoffed.

"I'm sorry about Saturday, Kristoff," I apologized. "I've got to hit the sack"—the couch, I corrected mentally—"but I'll call you again soon."

"Are you sure they'll let you?" he asked in a scathing tone.

"They don't have a choice. You're too important, Kristoff."

He sighed, "Thanks, Anna."

"Night, Kristoff."

"Goodnight, Anna."

Alice was abruptly at my side, her hand held out for my phone, but I was already dialing. She saw the number.

"I don't think she'll have her phone on her," she said.

"I'll leave a message."

The phone rang four times, followed by a beep. There was no greeting.

"You are in trouble," I said slowly, emphasizing each word. "Enormous trouble. Angry grizzly bears are going to look tame next to what is waiting for you at home."

I hung up the phone and emphatically shoved it into my pocket. "I'm done."

Alice grinned. "This hostage stuff is fun."

"Alice, you're ridiculous." I shook my head. "You're just lucky I love you."

"I love you, too!" She kissed my cheek. "I see you're going to bed."

I chuckled darkly and headed for the stairs. Alice tagged along.

"Alice," I sighed. "I'm not going to sneak out. You would know if I was planning to, and you'd catch me if I tried."

"I'm just going to show you where your things are," she said innocently.

Elsa's room was at the farthest end of the third floor hallway, hard to mistake even when the huge house had been less familiar. But when I switched the light on, I paused in confusion. Had I picked the wrong door?

Alice giggled.

It was the same room, I realized quickly; the furniture had just been rearranged. The couch was pushed to the north wall and the stereo shoved up against the vast shelves of CDs—to make room for the colossal bed that now dominated the central space.

The southern wall of glass reflected the scene back like a mirror, making it look twice as bad.

It matched. The coverlet was a dull gold, just lighter than the walls; the frame was black, made of intricately patterned wrought iron. Sculpted metal roses wound in vines up the tall posts and formed a bowery lattice overhead. My pajamas were folded neatly on the foot of the bed, my bag of toiletries to one side.

"What the hell is all this?" I spluttered.

"You didn't really think she would make you sleep on the couch, did you?"

I mumbled unintelligibly as I stalked forward to grab my things off the bed.

"I'll give you some privacy," Alice laughed. "See you in the morning."

After my teeth were brushed and I was dressed, I grabbed a puffy feather pillow off the huge bed and dragged the gold cover to the couch. I knew I was being stubborn, but I didn't care. Porsches as bribes and king-sized beds in houses where nobody slept—it was beyond irritating. I flipped off the lights and curled up on the sofa, wondering if I was too annoyed to sleep.

In the dark, the glass wall was no longer a black mirror, doubling the room. The light of the moon brightened the clouds outside the window. As my eyes adjusted, I could see diffused glow highlighting the tops of the trees, and glinting off a small slice of the river. I watched the silver light, waiting for my eyes get heavy.

There was a light knock on the door.

"What, Alice?" I groaned. I was on the defensive, imagining her amusement when she saw my makeshift bed.

"It's me," Royal said softly, opening the door enough that I could see the silver glow touch his chiseled face. "Can I come in?

 **so whats your thoughts and what do you think royal wants with Anna.**


	7. unhappy ending

**I hope this gives you guys insight on why royal is the way he is. tell me your thoughts ?**

Royal hesitated in the doorway, his breathtaking face unsure.

"Of course," I replied, my voice an octave high with surprise. "Come on in."

I sat up, sliding to the end of the sofa to make room. My stomach twisted nervously as the one Cullen who did not like me moved silently to sit down in the open space. I tried to come up with a reason why he would want to see me, but my mind was a blank on that point.

"Do you mind talking to me for a few minutes?" he asked. "I didn't wake you up or anything, did I?" His eyes shifted to the stripped bed and back to my couch.

"No, I was awake. Sure, we can talk." I wondered if he could hear the alarm in my voice as clearly as I could.

He laughed lightly, and it sounded like a chorus of bells. "She so rarely leaves you alone," he said. "I figured I'd better make the best of this opportunity."

What did he want to say that couldn't be said in front of Elsa? My hands twisted and untwisted around the edge of the comforter.

"Please don't think I'm horribly interfering," Royal said, his voice gentle and almost pleading. He folded his arms over his muscular chest and looked down as he spoke. "I'm sure I've hurt your feelings enough in the past, and I don't want to do that again."

"Don't worry about it, Royal. My feelings are great. What is it?"

He laughed again, sounding oddly embarrassed. "I'm going to try and tell you why I think you should stay human—why I would stay human if I were you."

"Oh, well, umm… I mean, I don't have any immediate plans to…" I trailed off.

"I know, Anna." Royal nodded. "However, it is a possibility, correct?"

"I mean, I suppose."

"So, if you ever have to make that decision…"

"Okay, go head."

He smiled and nodded, and then he sighed.

"Did Elsa ever tell you what led to this?" he asked, gesturing to his glorious immortal body.

I nodded slowly, suddenly somber. "She said it was close to what happened to me that time in Port Angeles, only no one was there to saveyou." I shuddered at the memory.

"Is that really all she told you?" he asked.

"Yes," I said, my voice blank with confusion. "Was there more?"

He looked up at me and smiled; it was a harsh, bitter—but still stunning—expression.

"Yes," he said. "There was more."

I waited while he stared out the window. He seemed to be trying to calm himself.

"Would you like to hear my story, Anna? It doesn't have a happy ending—but which of ours does? If we had happy endings, we'd all be under gravestones now."

I nodded, though I was frightened by the edge in his voice.

"I lived in a different world than you do, Anna. My human world was a much simpler place. It was nineteen thirty-three. I was eighteen, and I was the most handsome boy in town. My life was perfect."

He stared out the window at the silver clouds, his expression far away.

"My parents were thoroughly middle class. My father had a stable job in a bank, something I realize now that he was smug about—he saw his prosperity as a reward for talent and hard work, rather than acknowledging the luck involved. I took it all for granted then; in my home, it was as if the Great Depression was only a troublesome rumor. Of course I saw the poor people, the ones who weren't as lucky. My father left me with the impression that they'd brought their troubles on themselves.

"It was my mother's job to keep our house—and myself and my two younger sisters—in spotless order. It was clear that I was both her first priority and her favorite. I didn't fully understand at the time, but I was always vaguely aware that my parents weren't satisfied with what they had, even if it was so much more than most. They wanted more. They had social aspirations—social climbers, I suppose you could call them. They had high hopes for me—if you couldn't tell by what they named me—and my good looks were like a gift to them. They saw so much more potential in it than I did. The hoped I would find a rich girl to marry and elevate the family.

"They weren't satisfied, butIwas. I was thrilled to be me, to be Royal Hale. Pleased that eyes watched me everywhere I went. Delighted that my friends envied my handsome face and my strong physique. Happy that my father was proud of me and that my mother praised me.

"I knew what I wanted out of life, and there didn't seem to be any way that I wouldn't get exactly what I wanted. I wanted to be loved, to be adored. I wanted everyone who saw me to think I was the most beautiful thing they'd ever seen. Admiration was like air to me, Anna. I was stupid and shallow, but I was content." He smiled, amused at his own evaluation.

"My parents' influence had been such that I also wanted the material things of life. I wanted a big house with elegant furnishings that someone else would clean and a modern kitchen that someone else would cook in. As I said, shallow. Young and very shallow. And I didn't see any reason why I wouldn't get these things.

"There was one thing I couldn't have though, Anna. Like I said, it was a different time. Certainly, I could have had my pick of any girl. Obviously, though, I wasn't interested in any of them." He smiled more to himself than to me. "My very closest friend was a girl named Vera. We had been neighbors growing up. She married young, just seventeen. She married a beautiful man in a beautiful public wedding. Something I would never have. It was the first time I'd ever felt truly jealous of anyone else in my entire life."

He looked at me with unfathomable eyes. "It was a different time." He said again. "I would have given anything to be like Vera. I wanted my own house and husband who would kiss me when he got home from work—just like Vera. Only I had a very different kind of house in mind…"

It was hard for me to imagine the world that Royal had known. I had been nervous about Forks being small town, but I walked around holding hands with Elsa and no one batted an eye. Royal couldn't have that.

Royal sighed, and when he spoke again his voice was different, the wistfulness gone.

"In Rochester, there was one truly royal family," he smirked. "The Kings, ironically enough. Royce King owned the bank my father worked at, and nearly every other really profitable business in town. That's how his son, Royce King the Second"—his mouth twisted around the name, it came out through his teeth—"saw me the first time. He was going to take over at the bank, and so he began overseeing the different positions. Two days later, I accompanied my father since he was pushing for me to get a job at the bank with him. I remember feeling smug, like I was certain I would get it." Royal laughed without humor.

"I didn't notice Royce watching me particularly. Everyone watched me. But that night the first of the roses came. Every night, he secretly sent a bouquet of roses concealed in a box. My room was always overflowing with them. It got to the point that I would smell like roses when I left the house.

"Royce was handsome, too. He had lighter hair than I did, and pale blue eyes. He said my eyes were like violets, and then those started showing up alongside the roses.

"My parents approved of our friendship—that's all they thought it was. The social connection was everything they'd dreamed of. And Royce seemed to be everythingI'ddreamed of. The fairy tale prince, come to make my dreams come true. Everything I wanted, yet it was a secret from the world.

"We didn't spend a great deal of time with each other. Royce told me he had many responsibilities at work, but, when we were together, it was wild and passionate. When we were in public I was treated like a prince. There were lots of parties, dancing, champagne. We were rich playboys and every man wanted to be us. When you were a King, every door was open for you, every red carpet rolled out to greet you.

"Royce promised me that we would be together forever. Yes, it would be a secret, but we'd always have each other. I loved him, and I thought he loved me."

Royal broke off suddenly, clenching his teeth together. It pulled me out of his story, and I realized that the horror was not far off. There would be no happy ending, as he'd promised. I wondered if this was why he had so much more bitterness in him than the rest of them—because he'd been within reach of everything he'd wanted when his human life was cut short.

"I had gone to visit my friend Vera that night," Royal whispered. His face was smooth as marble, and as hard. "She and her husband had just had a little boy—a sweet child with dimples. Vera walked me to the door as I was leaving, her baby in her arms and her husband at her side, his arm around her waist. He kissed her on the cheek when he thought I wasn't looking. That bothered me. Royce would never do that to me with anyone around, and even in secret, it wasn't quite the same—not so sweet somehow… I shoved that thought aside. Royce was my prince, after all."

It was hard to tell in the moonlight, but it looked like his bone white face hot paler.

"It was dark in the streets, the lamps were already on. I hadn't realized how late it was." He continued to whisper almost inaudibly. "It was cold, too. Very cold for late April—I can remember that clearly. I remember every detail about that night. I clung to it so hard… in the beginning. I thought of nothing else. And so I remember this, when so many pleasant memories have faded away completely…"

He sighed, and began whispering again. "Yes, I was worrying about the weather… how ridiculous in hindsight…

"I was a few streets from my house when I heard them. A cluster of men under a broken streetlamp, laughing too loud. Drunk. I wished I'd left for home sooner. And then he called my name.

"'Roy!' he yelled, and the others laughed stupidly.

"I hadn't realized the drunks were so well dressed. It was Royce and some of his friends, sons of other rich men.

"'Here's the man!' Royce shouted, laughing with them, sounding just as stupid. 'You're late. We're cold, you've kept us waiting so long.'"

"I'd never seen him drink before. A toast, now and then, at a party. He'd told me he didn't like champagne. I hadn't realized that he preferred something much stronger.

"He had a new friend—the friend of a friend, come up from Atlanta.

"'Well, there he is, John," Royce grabbed my arm and pulled me closer. 'You can't say I don't have good taste.'

"The man named John was dark-haired and suntanned. He looked me over with disgust in his eyes.

"'You're just lucky you have us here," he drawled slowly. 'So we can set you straight.'

"They laughed, Royce like the rest.

"'You're right, gentlemen,' Royce said, shoving me to the ground. 'Thank god for that.'

"'Let's teach this fairy a lesson,' John drawled at the men.

"One of them grabbed my hair and dragged me along the street, and I tried to be strong but I couldn't help but cry out in pain. They seemed to enjoy that—the sound of my pain…"

Royal looked at me suddenly, as if he'd forgotten I was there. I was sure my face as white as his. Unless it was green.

"I think you can guess what happened," he said quietly. "They beat me, called me names… They left me in the street, still laughing as they stumbled away. They thought I was dead. They were teasing Royce that he would have to find some girl to help get all the fairy out of him. He laughed and said they didn't have to worry, he'd never touch a freak like me again.

"I waited in the road to die. It was cold, though there was so much pain that I was surprised it bothered me. It started to snow, and I wondered why I wasn't dying. I was impatient for death to come, to end the pain. It was taking so long…

"Carlisle found me then. He'd smelled the blood, and come to investigate. I remember being vaguely irritated as he worked over me, trying to save my life. I'd never liked Dr. Cullen or his wife and her sister—as Elsa pretended to be then. It had upset me that they were all more beautiful than I was. But they didn't mingle in society, so I'd only seen them once or twice.

"I thought I'd died when he pulled me from the ground and ran with me—because of the speed—it felt like I was flying. I remembered being horrified that the pain didn't stop…

"Then I was in a bright room, and it was warm. I was slipping away, and I was grateful as the pain began to dull. But suddenly something sharp was cutting me, my throat, my wrists, my ankles. I screamed in shock, thinking he'd brought me there to hurt me more. Then the fire started burning through me, and I didn't care about anything else. I begged him to kill me. When Esme and Elsa returned home, I begged them to kill me, too. Carlisle sat with me. He held my hand and said that he was so sorry, promising me that it would end. He told me everything, and sometimes I listened. He told me what he was, what I was becoming. I didn't believe him. He apologized each time I screamed.

"Elsa wasn't happy. I remember hearing them discuss me. I stopped screaming sometimes. It did no good to scream.

"'What were you thinking, Carlisle?' Elsa said. 'Royal Hale?'" Royal imitated Elsa's irritated tone to perfection. "I didn't like the way she said my name, like there was something wrong with me.

"'I couldn't just let him die,' Carlisle said quietly. 'It was too much—too horrible, too much waste.'

"'I know,' Elsa said, and I thought she sounded dismissive. It angered me. I didn't know then that she really could see exactly what Carlisle had seen.

"'It was too much waste. I couldn't leave him,' Carlisle repeated in a whisper.

"'Of course you couldn't,' Esme agreed.

"'People die all the time,' Elsa reminded him in a hard voice. 'Don't you think he's just a little recognizable, though? The Hales will have to put up a huge search, the Kings might, as well—not that anyone suspects the fiend,' she growled.

"It pleased me that they seemed to know that Royce was guilty.

"I didn't realize that it was almost over—that I was getting stronger and that was why I was able to concentrate on what they were saying. The pain was beginning to fade from my fingertips.

"'What are we going to do with him?' Elsa said disgustedly—or that's how it sounded to me, at least.

"Carlisle sighed. 'That's up to him, of course. He may want to go his own way.'

"I'd believed enough of what he'd told me that his words terrified me. I knew that my life was ended, and there was no going back for me. I couldn't stand the thought of being alone…

"The pain finally ended and they explained to me again what I was. This time I believed. I felt the thirst, my hard skin; I saw my brilliant red eyes.

"Shallow as I was, I felt better when I saw my reflection in the mirror for the first time. Despite the eyes, I was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen." He laughed at himself for a moment. "Maybe if I hadn't been so vapid and shallow, I would have been more careful. Maybe I would have been smarter about everything if I hadn't been so stupid. Perhaps I could have had a life like Vera. That's all I really wanted. It still doesn't seem like too much to have asked for."

He was thoughtful for a moment, and I wondered if he'd forgotten my presence again. But then he smiled at me, his expression suddenly triumphant.

"You know, my record is almost as clean as Carlisle's," he told me. "better than Esme. A thousand times better than Elsa. I've never tasted human blood," he announced proudly.

He understood my puzzled expression as I wondered why his record was onlyalmostas clean.

"I did murder five humans," he told me in a complacent tone. "If you can really call themhuman. But I was very careful not to spill their blood—I knew I wouldn't be able to resist that, and I didn't want any part of theminme, you see.

"I saved Royce for last. I hoped he would hear of his friends' deaths and understand, know what was coming for him. I hoped the fear would make the end worse for him. I think it worked. He was hiding inside a windowless room behind a door as thick as a bank vault's, guarded outside by armed men, when I caught up with him. Oh—seven murders," he corrected himself. "I forgot about his guards. They only took a second."

"I was overly theatrical. It was kind of childish, really. I wore the clothes they had attacked me in. He screamed when he saw me standing there, covered in my blood stained clothes with brilliant red eyes. He screamed a lot that night. Saving him for last was a good idea—it made it easier for me to control myself, to make it slower—"

He broke off suddenly, and he glanced down at me. "I'm sorry," he said in a chagrined voice. "I'm frightening you, aren't I?"

"I'm fine," I lied.

"I got carried away."

"Don't worry about it."

"I'm surprised Elsa didn't tell you more about it."

"She doesn't like to tell other people's stories—she feels like she's betraying confidences, because she hears so much more than just the parts they mean for her to hear."

Royal smiled and shook his head. "I probably ought to give her more credit. She's really quite decent, isn't she?"

"Ithink so."

"I can tell," Then he sighed. "I haven't been fair to you, either, Anna. Did she tell you why? Or was that too confidential?"

"She said it was because I was human. She said it was harder for you to have someone on the outside who knew."

Royal's musical laughter interrupted me. "Now I really feel guilty. She's been much, much kinder to me than I deserve." He seemed warmer as he laughed, he'd let down some guard that had never been absent in my presence before. "What a liar that girl is." He laughed again.

"She was lying?" I asked, suddenly wary.

"Well, that's probably putting it too strongly. She just didn't tell you the whole story. What she told you was true, even truer now than it was before. However, at the time…" He broke off, chuckling nervously. "It's embarrassing. You see, at first, I was mostly jealous because she wantedyouand not me."

His words sent a thrill of fear through me. Sitting there in the silver light, he was more beautiful than anything else I could imagine. I could not compete with Royal.

"But you love Emmett…," I mumbled.

He shook his head back and forth, amused. "I don't want Elsa that way, Anna. I never did—I love her as a sister I'm gay after all, but she's irritated me from the first moment I heard her speak. You have to understand, though… I was so used to people wantingme. And Elsa wasn't the least bit interested. It frustrated me, even offended me in the beginning. But she never wanted anyone, so it didn't bother me long. Even when we first met Taras's clan in Denali—all those beauties!—Elsa never showed the slightest preference. And then she met you." He looked at me with confused eyes. I was only half paying attention. I was thinking about Elsa and Taras andall those beauties, and my lips pressed together in a hard line.

"Not that you aren't very pretty, Anna," he said, misreading my expression. "But it just meant that she found you more attractive than me. I'm vain enough that I minded."

"But you said 'at first.' That doesn't still… bother you, does it? I mean, we both know you're the most beautiful person on the planet."

I laughed at having to say the words—it was so obvious. How odd that Royal should need such reassurances.

Royal laughed, too. "Thanks, Anna. And no, it doesn't really bother me anymore. Elsa has always been a little strange." He laughed again.

"But you still don't like me," I whispered.

His smile faded. "I don'tdislikeyou, Anna."

We sat in silence for a moment, and he didn't seem inclined to go on.

"Would you tell me what the problem is? Did I do something…?" Was he angry that I'd put his family—his Emmett—in danger? Time and time again. Hans, and now Gerda, the Volturi…

"No, you haven't done anything," he murmured. "Not intentionally."

I stared at him, perplexed.

"Don't you see, Anna?" His voice was suddenly more passionate than before, even while he'd told his unhappy story. "You already haveeverything. You have a whole life ahead of you—everything I want. And you'd justthrow it away." His voice became sad. "You can have a girlfriend, you can go out and hold hands with her, something I couldn't have when I was human. Can't you see I'd trade everything I have to be you? You have the choice I didn't have, and you're choosingwrong!"

He stared at me for a long moment, and slowly, the fervor in his eyes dimmed. Abruptly, he was abashed.

"And I was so sure I could do this calmly." He shook his head, seeming a little dazed by the flood of emotion. "It's just that it's harder now than it was then, when it was no more than vanity."

He stared at the moon in silence. It was a few moments before I was brave enough to break into his reverie.

"Would you like me better if I choose to stay human?"

He turned back to me, his lips twitching into a hint of a smile. "Maybe."

"You did get some of your happy ending, though," I reminded him. "You got Emmett."

"I got half." He grinned. "You know that I saved Emmett from a bear that was mauling him, and carried him home to Carlisle. I still don't know why I stopped that bear from eating him. After all, I knew nothing about Emmett. I didn't know if he would love me. But with his dark curls, the dimples that showed even while he was grimacing in pain, the strange innocence that seemed so out of place on a grown man's face… I knew I loved him. I didn't want him to die—so much that, even though I hated this life, I was selfish enough to ask Carlisle to change him for me.

"I got luckier than I deserved. Emmett is everything I would have asked for if I'd known myself well enough to know what to ask for. He's exactly the kind of person someone like me needs. And, oddly enough, he needs me, too. That part worked out better than I could have hoped."

He stopped, and sighed. "But we'll always be this. Frozen in time. Never changing. I daydream, sometimes, about sitting on a porch somewhere, with him gray-haired by my side… But we'll never have that."

His smile was kind now. "That sounds quite bizarre to you, doesn't it? In some ways, you are much more mature than I was at eighteen. But in other ways… there are many things you've probably never thought about seriously. You're too young to know what you'll want in ten years, fifteen years—and too young to give it all up without thinking it through. You don't want to be rash about permanent things, Anna." He patted my head, but the gesture didn't feel condescending.

"Just think about it a little. Once it's done, it can't be undone. Esme and Carlisle have made do with us as substitutes, Jasper and Emmett are content enough, and Alice doesn't remember anything about being human so she can't miss it… You will remember, though. It's a lot to give up."

"Thank you, Royal." I finally said. "It's nice to understand… to know you better."

"I apologize for being such a monster." He grinned. "I'll try to behave myself from now on."

I grinned back at him.

We weren't best friends or anything, but I was pretty sure we were maybe better than we were before.

"I'll let you sleep now." Royal's eyes flickered to the bed, and his lips twitched. "I know you're frustrated that she's keeping you locked up like this, but don't give her too bad a time when she gets back. She loves you more than you know. It terrifies her to be away from you."We vampires cannot loose our mates it would ruin us. He got up silently and ghosted to the door. "Goodnight, Anna," he whispered as he shut the door.

"Goodnight, Royal," I murmured a second too late.

It took me a long time to fall asleep after that.

When I did sleep, I had a nightmare. I was crawling across the dark, cold stones of an unfamiliar street, under lightly falling snow, leaving a trail of blood smeared behind me. A shadowy angel in white watched my progress with resentful eyes.

The next morning, Alice drove me to school while I stared grumpily out the windshield. I was feeling sleep-deprived, and it made the irritation of my imprisonment that much stronger.

"Tonight we'll go out to Olympia or something," she promised. "That would be fun, right?"

"Why don't you just lock me in the basement," I suggested, "and forget the sugar coating?"

Alice frowned. "She's going to take the Porsche back. I'm not doing a very good job. You're supposed to be having fun."

"It's not your fault," I muttered. I couldn't believe I actually felt guilty. "I'll see you at lunch."

I trudged off to English. Without Elsa, the day would be more monotonous than usual. I sulked through my first class, well aware that my attitude wasn't helping anything.

When the bell rang, I got up without much enthusiasm. Makayla was there at the door, holding it open for me.

"Elsa hiking this weekend?" she asked sociably as we walked out into the light rain.

"Yeah."

"You want to do something tonight?"

How could she still sound hopeful?

"Can't. I've got a slumber party," I grumbled. She gave me a strange look as she processed my mood.

"Who are you—"

Makayla's question was cut short as a loud, growling roar erupted from behind us in the parking lot. Everyone on the sidewalk turned to look, staring in disbelief as the noisy black motorcycle screeched to a stop on the edge of the concrete, the engine still snarling.

Kristoff waved to me urgently.

"Run, Anna!" he yelled over the engine's roar.

I was frozen for a second before I understood.

I looked at Makayla quickly. I knew I only had seconds.

How far would Alice go to restrain me in public?

"I got really sick and went home, okay?" I said to Makayla, my voice filled with sudden excitement.

"Fine," she muttered.

I pecked Makayla swiftly on the cheek. "Thanks, Makayla. I owe you one!" I called as I sprinted away.

Kristoff revved his engine, grinning. I jumped on the back of his seat, wrapping my arms tightly around his waist.

I caught sight of Alice, frozen at the edge of the cafeteria, her eyes sparkling with fury, her lip curled back over her teeth.

I shot her one pleading glance.

Then we were racing across the blacktop so fast that my stomach got lost somewhere behind me.

"Hold on," Kristoff shouted.

I hid my face in his back as he sped down the highway. I knew he would slow down when we hit the Quileute border. I just had to hold on till then. I prayed silently and fervently that Alice wouldn't follow, and that David wouldn't happen to see me…

It was obvious when we had reached the safe zone. The bike slowed, and Kristoff straightened up and howled with laughter. I opened my eyes.

"We made it," he shouted. "Not bad for a prison break, eh?"

"Good thinking, Kristoff."

"I remembered what you said about the psychic one not being able to predict whatI'mgoing to do. I'm gladyoudidn't think of this—she wouldn't have let you go to school."

"That's why I didn't consider it."

He laughed triumphantly. "What do you want to do today?"

"Anything!" I laughed back. It felt great to be free.


	8. temper

We ended up on the beach again, wandering aimlessly. Kristoff was still full of himself for engineering my escape.

"Do you think they'll come looking for you?" he asked, sounding hopeful.

"No." I was certain about that. "They're going to be furious with me tonight, though."

He picked up a rock and chucked it into the waves. "Don't go back, then," he suggested again.

"David would love that," I said sarcastically.

"I bet he wouldn't mind."

I didn't answer. Kristoff was probably right. David wasn't subtle about his preference for my Quileute friends. I wondered if he would feel the same if he knew the choice was really between vampires and werewolves.

"So what's the latest pack scandal?" I asked lightly.

Kristoff skidded to a halt, and he stared down at me with shocked eyes.

"What? That was a joke."

"Oh." He looked away.

I waited for him to start walking again, but he seemed lost in thought.

"Isthere a scandal?" I wondered.

Kristoff chuckled once. "I forget what it's like, not having everyone know everything all the time. Having a quiet, private place inside my head."

We walked along the stony beach quietly for a few minutes.

"So what is it?" I finally asked. "That everyone in your head already knows?"

He hesitated for a moment, as if he weren't sure how much he was going to tell me. Then he sighed and said, "Quil found someone. That's three now. The rest of us are starting to get worried. Maybe thereissome sort of connection thing…" He frowned, and then turned to stare at me. He gazed into my eyes without speaking, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration.

"What are you staring at?" I asked, feeling self-conscious.

He sighed. "Nothing."

Kristoff started walking again. Without seeming to think about it, he reached out and took my hand. We paced silently across the rocks.

I thought of how we must look walking hand and hand down the beach—like a couple, certainly—and wondered if I should object. But this was the way it had always been with Kristoff… No reason to get worked up about it now.

"Why is Quil finding someone such a scandal?" I asked when it didn't look like he was going to go on. "Is it because he's the newest one?"

"Honestly, Anna, it was mostly because of the conversation you and I had about Sam, Emily, and Liam."

"Oh…" I felt a tinge of guilt. "I didn't mean to start anything."

"It just made me wonder if there really was something about being a werewolf that made us fall in love with people or if Sam was just saying all that to make himself feel better. Then it made all the others wonder the same thing…" He trailed off.

"What do you think?" I asked quietly.

"I don't know, it could just be a coincidence that Quil met someone. I mean, we all know each other's thoughts—we know exactly what Quil was thinking and we still can't tell if he fell in love or ifsomethingmade him fall in love." He sighed. "Either way, if thereissomething that makes us fall in love then we don't really have any free will, do we?" I could hear the frustration in his voice. "But then, if there's not, that makes Sam kind of a jerk. Still, how are we supposed to ignore his sacrifice? He gave up so much for the pack, we'd be complete jerks if we were ever selfish about something and put our needs in front of the pack."

We walked in silence for a moment, till I paused to toss a rock toward the ocean. It fell to the beach several meters short. Kristoff laughed at me.

"We can't all be freakishly strong," I muttered.

He sighed.

"Do you think—if it's real—it'll happen to you?" I asked quietly.

His answer was flat and immediate. "Never."

"But is it something you can control?"

He was silent for a few minutes. Unconsciously, we both walked slower, barely moving at all.

"Ifit's even a real thing," he finally said. "If it's some bogus love-at-first-sight thing, I guess it's not something that can be controlled. Sam reasons that it's finding your soul-mate—the person meant for you."

"Maybe you just haven't seen the person meant for you." I offered. "Kristoff, you haven't really seen much of the world—less than me, even."

"No, I haven't," he said in a low voice. He looked at my face with suddenly piercing yes. "But I'll never see anyone else, Anna. I only see you. Even when I close my eyes and try to see something else. Ask Quil or Sven. It drives them all crazy."

I dropped my eyes to the rocks.

We weren't walking anymore. The only sound was of the waves beating against the shore. I couldn't hear the rain over their roar.

"Maybe I'd better go home," I whispered.

"No!" he protested, surprised by my conclusion.

I looked up at him again, and his eyes were anxious now.

"You have the whole day off, right? The bloodsucker won't be home yet."

I glared at him.

"Sorry, sorry. No offense intended," he said quickly.

"Yes, I have the whole day. But, Kristoff…"

He held up his hands. "Sorry," he apologized. "I won't be like that anymore. I'll just be Kristoff."

I sighed. "But if that's what you'rethinking…"

"Don't worry about me," he insisted, smiling with deliberate cheer, too brightly. "I know what I'm doing. Just tell me if I'm upsetting you."

"You're not upsetting me, Kristoff." I admitted. "I'm just… worried about where things might go if we're not careful."

"C'mon, babe. Don't think about that."

"But what if everything gets ruined?" I said softly.

"It won't. I promise." He gently took my hand. "I'll be Kristoff, you'll be Anna, and we'll always be friends." He smiled.

"Okay, Kristoff."

"So let's go back to the house and get our bikes. You've got to ride a motorcycle regularly to keep it in tune."

"I really don't think I'm allowed."

"By who? David or the blood—orher?"

"Both."

Kristoff grinnedmygrin, and suddenly he was the Kristoff I missed the most, sunny and warm.

I couldn't help grinning back.

The rain softened, turned to mist.

"I won't tell anyone," he promised.

"Except every one of your friends."

He shook his head soberly and raised his right hand. "I promise not to think about it."

I laughed. "If I get hurt, it was because I tripped."

"Whatever you say."

We rode our motorcycles on the back roads around La Push until the rain made them too muddy and Kristoff insisted that he was going to pass out if he didn't eat soon. Billy greeted me easily when we got to the house, as if my sudden reappearance meant nothing more complicated than that I'd wanted to spend the day with a friend. After we ate the sandwiches Kristoff made, we went out to the garage and I helped him clean up the bikes. I hadn't been there in months—since Elsa had returned—but there was no sense of import to it. It was just another afternoon in the garage.

"This is nice," I commented when he pulled the warm sodas from the grocery bag. "I've missed this place."

He smiled, looking around at the plastic sheds bolted together over our heads. "Yeah, I can understand that. All the splendor of the Taj Mahal, without the inconvenience and expense of traveling to India."

"To Washington's little Taj Mahal," I toasted, holding up my can.

He touched his can to mine.

"You're getting really good at riding your bike, Anna." Kristoff grinned. "Have you been practicing behind my back?"

"Not even!" I laughed.

"If someone had told me back when we first started riding that you'd be this good at it someday, I would have laughed in their face!" He chuckled. "Say, do you remember last Valentine's Day? I think that was the last time you were here—the last time when things were still… normal, I mean."

I laughed. "Of course, I remember. I traded a lifetime of servitude for a box of conversation hearts. That's not something I'm likely to forget.

He laughed with me. "That's right. Hmm, servitude. I'll have to think of something good." Then he sighed. "It feels like it was years ago. Another era. A happier one."

I couldn't disagree with him. Yes, I was happy now, but I was surprised to realize how many things I missed from those days. I stared through the opening at the murky forest. The rain had picked up again, but it was warm in this little garage, sitting next to Kristoff. He was as good as a furnace.

His fingers brushed my hand. "Things have really changed."

"Yeah," I said, and then I reached out and patted the back tire of my bike. "Davidusedto like me. I hope Billy doesn't say anything about today…" I bit my lip.

"He won't. He doesn't get worked up about things the way David does. Hey, I never did apologize officially for that stupid move with the bike. I'm real sorry about ratting you out to David. I wish I hadn't."

I rolled my eyes. "Me, too."

"I'm really, really sorry."

He looked at me hopefully, his wet, tangled black hair sticking up in every direction around his handsome, pleading face.

"Oh, fine! You're forgiven."

"Thanks, babe!"

We grinned at each other for a second, and then his face clouded over.

"You know that day, when I brought the bike over… I've been wanting to ask you something," he said slowly. "But also… not wanting to."

I held very still—a reaction to stress. It was a habit I'd picked up from Elsa.

"Were you just being stubborn because you were mad at me, or were you really serious?" he whispered.

"About what?" I whispered back, though I was sure I knew what he meant.

He glared at me. "You know. When you said it was none of my business… if—if she bit you." He cringed visibly at the end.

"Kristoff…" My throat felt swollen. I couldn't finish.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "Were you serious?"

He was trembling just slightly. His eyes stayed closed.

"It's complicated, Kristoff, but yes," I whispered.

Kristoff inhaled, slow and deep. "I guess I knew that."

I stared at his face, waiting for his eyes to open.

"You know what this will mean?" He demanded suddenly. "You do understand that, don't you? What will happen if they break the treaty?"

"We'll leave first," I said in a small voice.

His eyes flashed open, their black depths full of anger and pain. "There wasn't a geographic limit to the treaty, Anna. Our great-grandfathers only agreed to keep the peace because the Cullens swore that they were different, that humans weren't in danger from them. They promised they would never kill or change anyone ever again. If they go back on their word, the treaty is meaningless, and they are no different than any other vampires. Once that's established, when we find them again—"

"But, Kristoff, didn't you break the treaty already?" I asked, grasping at straws. "Wasn't part of it that you not tell people about the vampires? And you told me. So isn't the treaty sort of moot, anyhow?"

Kristoff didn't like the reminder; the pain in his eyes hardened into animosity. "Yeah, I broke the treaty—back before I believed any of it. And I'm sure they were informed of that." He glared sourly at my forehead, not meeting my shamed gaze. "But it's not like that gives them a freebie or anything. There's no fault for a fault. They have only one option if they object to what I did. The same option we'll have when they break the treaty: to attack. To start the war."

He made it sound so inevitable. I shuddered.

"Kristoff, it doesn't have to be that way."

His teeth ground together. "Itisthat way."

The silence after his declaration felt very loud.

"Would you ever forgive me, Kristoff?" I whispered. As soon as I said the words, I wished I hadn't. I didn't want to hear his answer.

"You won't be Anna anymore," he told me. "My friend won't exist. There'll be no one to forgive."

"That sounds like ano," I whispered.

We faced each other for an endless moment.

"Is this goodbye then, Kristoff?"

He blinked rapidly, his fierce expression melting in surprise. "Why? We still have a few years. Can't we be friends until we're out of time?"

"Years? Maybe. Could be years, Kristoff." I shook my head, and laughed once without humor. "Could be weeks."

I was not expecting his reaction.

He was suddenly on his feet, and there was a loudpopas the soda can exploded in his hand. Soda flew everywhere, soaking me, like it was spraying from a hose.

"Kristoff!" I started to complain, but I fell silent when I realized that his whole body was quivering with anger. He glared at me wildly, a growling sound building in his chest.

I froze in place, too shocked to remember how to move.

The shaking rolled through him, getting faster, until it looked like he was vibrating. His shape blurred…

And then Kristoff gritted his teeth together, and the growling stopped. He squeezed his eyes tight in concentration; the quivering slowed until only his hands were shaking.

"Weeks," Kristoff said in a flat monotone.

I couldn't respond; I was still frozen.

He opened his eyes. They were beyond fury now.

"She's going to change you into a filthy bloodsucker in just a fewweeks!" Kristoff hissed through his teeth.

Too stunned to take offense at his words, I just shrugged mutely.

His face turned green under the russet skin.

"Kristoff, please," I whispered after a long minute of silence. "It's complicated. I wish I could explain it to you, but I can't. It's…complicated. What else can I do?"

I'd meant that as a rhetorical question.

His words cracked like snaps of a whip. "Anything. Anything else. You'd be better off dead. I'd rather you were."

I recoiled like he'd slapped me. It hurt worse than if he had.

And then, as the pain shot through me, my own temper burst into flame.

"Maybe you'll get lucky," I said bleakly, lurching to my feet. "Maybe I'll get hit by a truck on my way back."

I grabbed my motorcycle and pushed it out into the rain. He didn't move as I passed him. As soon as I was on the small, muddy path, I climbed on and kicked the back to life. The rear tire spit a fountain of mud toward the garage, and I hoped that it hit him.

I got absolutely soaked as I sped across the slick highway toward the Cullens' house. The wind felt like it was freezing the rain against my skin, and my teeth were chattering before I was halfway there.

But I didn't care. It felt cleansing, almost. Racing along the highway. I decided the bike was going to stay with me for a long time.

I walked the bike into the Cullens' cavernous garage and was unsurprised to find Alice waiting for me, perched lightly on the hood of her Porsche. Alice stroked the glossy yellow paint.

"I haven't even had a chance to drive it." She sighed.

"Don't worry," I shuddered through my rattling teeth, "I won't let her take it away from you."

"You look like you could use a hot shower," she said springing lightly to her feet.

"Yep."

She pursed her lips, taking in my expression carefully. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"Nope."

She nodded in assent, but her eyes were raging with curiosity.

"Do you want to go to Olympia tonight?"

"Not really. Can't I go home?"

She grimaced.

"Never mind, Alice," I said. "I'll stay. It'll make things easier for you."

"Thanks," she sighed in relief.

I took a hot shower and went to bed early that night, curling up on Elsa's sofa again.

It was still dark when I woke. I was groggy, but I knew it wasn't near morning yet. My eyes closed, and I stretched, rolling over. It took me a second before I realized that the movement should have dumped me onto the floor. And that I was much too comfortable.

I rolled back over, trying to see. It was darker than last night—the clouds were too thick for the moon to shine through.

"Sorry," she murmured so softly that her voice was part of the darkness. "I didn't mean to wake you."

I tensed, waiting for the fury—both hers and mine—but it was only quiet and calm in the darkness of her room. There was no friction in the space between us. The stillness was peaceful—not like the calm before the tempest, but like a clear night untouched by even the dream of a storm.

And I didn't care that I was supposed to be angry with her. It had been a long, emotional day, and I didn't have the energy. I sighed and reached out for her, found her hands in the darkness, and pulled myself closer to her. Her arms encircled me, cradling me to her chest.

I felt her lips gently kiss along my cheek, down to my lips. She kissed me softly for a moment, and then she chuckled.

"I was all braced for the wrath that was going to put grizzlies to shame, and this is what I get? I should infuriate you more often."

"Give me a minute to work up to it," I grumbled, and kissed her.

"I'll wait as long as you want," she whispered against my lips. Her fingers knotted in my hair.

My breath caught. "Maybe in the morning."

"Whatever you prefer."

"You're not completely off the hook," I said while her cold lips pressed under my jaw. "So don't get too comfortable."

"Yes, mam." She breathed against my neck.

"I mean it," I said, feeling my back arch as a tingle ran down my spine.

Her hand curved around my elbow, moving slowly down my arm, across my ribs and over my waist, tracing along my hip and down my leg, around my knee. She paused there, her hand curling around my calf. She pulled my leg up suddenly, hitching it around her hip.

I stopped breathing. This wasn't the kind of thing she usually allowed. Despite her cold hands, I felt suddenly warm. Her lips moved to the hollow at the base of my throat.

"Not to bring on the ire prematurely," she whispered, "but do you mind telling me what it is about this bed that you object to?"

Before I could answer, before I could even concentrate enough to make sense of her words, she rolled to the side, pulling me on top of her. She held my face in her hands, angling it up so that her mouth could reach my throat. My breathing was too loud—it was almost embarrassing, but I couldn't care quite enough to be ashamed.

"The bed?" she asked again. "Ithink it's nice."

"It's unnecessary," I managed to gasp.

She pulled my face back to hers, and my lips shaped themselves around hers. Slowly this time, she rolled till she hovered over me. She held herself carefully so that I felt none of her weight, but I could feel the cool marble of her body press against mine. My heart was beating so loudly that it was hard to hear her quiet laughter.

"That's debatable," she disagreed. "This would be difficult on a couch."

Cold as ice, her tongue lightly traced the shape of my lips.

My head was spinning—the air was coming fast and shallow.

"Did you change your mind?" I asked breathlessly. Maybe she'd rethought all her careful rules. Maybe there was more significance to this bed than I'd originally guessed. My heart pounded almost painfully as I waited for her answer.

Elsa sighed, and reluctantly rolled back so that were on our sides again.

"Don't be ridiculous, Anna," she said, disapproval strong in her voice—clearly, she understood what I meant. "I was just trying to illustrate the benefits of the bed you don't seem to like. Don't get carried away."

"Too late," I muttered. "And I like the bed," I added.

"Good." I could hear the smile in her voice as she kissed my forehead. "I do, too."

"But I still think it's unnecessary," I continued. "If we're not going to get carried away, what's the point?"

She sighed again. "For the hundredth time, Anna—it's too dangerous."

"I like danger," I insisted.

"I know." There was a sour edge to her voice, and I realized that she would have seen my motorcycle in the garage.

"I'll tell you what's dangerous," I said quickly, before she could move to a new topic of discussion. "I'm going to spontaneously combust one of these days—and you'll have no one but yourself to blame."

She started to move away.

"What are you doing?" I objected.

"Protecting you from combustion. If this is too much for you…"

"Oh, shut up. I can handle it," I insisted.

She wrapped her arms back around me.

"I'm sorry I gave you the wrong impression," she said. "I didn't mean to make you unhappy. That wasn't nice."

"Actually, it was very, very nice."

She took a deep breath, and I could hear she was fighting a smile. "Aren't you tired? I should let you sleep."

"No, I'm not. I don't mind if you want to give me the wrong impression again."

"That's probably a bad idea. I don't want to get carried away."

"You don't get carried away," I laughed.

She chuckled. "You have no idea, Anna. It doesn't help that you are so eager to undermine my self-control, either."

"I'm not going to apologize for that."

"CanIapologize?"

"For what?"

"You were angry with me, remember?"

"Oh. Yeah."

"I'm sorry. I was wrong. It's much easier to have the proper perspective when I have you safelyhere." Her arms tightened around me. "I go a little berserk when I try to leave you. I don't think I'll go so far again. It's not worth it."

I smiled. "Didn't you find any mountain lions?"

"Yes, I did, actually. Still not worth the anxiety. I'm sorry I had Alice hold you hostage, though. That was a bad idea."

"Yes, it was." I agreed.

"I won't do it again."

"Good girl" I said easily. "But, I suppose, slumber parties do have their advantages…" I curled myself closer to her, pressing my lips into the indentation over her collarbone. "Youcan hold me hostage any time you want."

"Mmm," she moaned. "I may take you up on that."

"So is it my turn now?"

"Your turn?" her voice was confused.

"To apologize."

"What do you have to apologize for?"

"Aren't you mad at me?" I asked blankly.

"No."

It sounded like she really meant it.

I felt my eyebrows pull together. "Didn't you see Alice when you got home?"

"Yes—why?"

"You'd better not take her Porsche back."

"Why would I do that? It was a gift."

I wished I could see her expression. Her voice sounded as if I'd insulted her.

"Don't you want to know what I did?" I asked, starting to be puzzled by her apparent lack of concern.

I felt her shrug. "I'm always interested in everything you do—but you don't have to tell me unless you want to."

"Well, I went to La Push."

"I know."

"And I ditched school."

"So did I."

I stared toward the sound of her voice, tracing her features with my fingers, trying to understand her mood. "Where did all this tolerance come from?" I demanded.

She sighed.

"I decided that you were right. My problem before was more about my… prejudice against werewolves than anything else. I'm going to try to be more reasonable and trust your judgement. If you say it's safe, then I'll believe you."

"Wow."

"And… most importantly… I'm not willing to let this drive a wedge between us."

I rested my head against her chest and closed my eyes, feeling content.

"So," she murmured in a casual tone. "Did you make plans to go back to La Push again soon?"

I didn't answer. Her question brought back the memory of Kristoff's words, and my throat was suddenly tight.

She misread my silence and the tension in my body.

"Just so I can make my own plans," she explained quickly. "I don't want you to feel like you have to hurry back because I'm sitting around waiting for you."

"No," I said in a voice that sounded strange to me. "I don't have plans to go back."

"Oh. You don't have to do that for me."

"I don't think I'm welcome anymore," I whispered.

"Did you run over someone's cat?" she asked lightly. I knew she didn't want to force the story out of me, but I could hear the curiosity burning behind her words.

"No." I took a deep breath, and then mumbled quickly through the explanation. "I thought Kristoff would have realized… I didn't think it would upset him so badly…"

Elsa waited while I hesitated.

"He wasn't expecting… that it could be so soon."

"Ah," Elsa said quietly.

"He said he'd rather see me dead." My voice broke on the last word.

Elsa was too still for a moment, controlling whatever reaction she didn't want me to see.

Then she crushed me gently to her chest. "I'm so sorry."

"I thought you'd be glad," I whispered.

"Glad over something that's hurt you?" she murmured into my hair. "I don't think so, Anna."

I sighed and relaxed, fitting myself to the stone shape of her. But she was motionless again, tense.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

"It's nothing."

"You can tell me."

She paused for a minute. "It might make you angry."

"I still want to know."

She sighed. "I could quite literally kill him for saying that to you. Iwantto."

I laughed halfheartedly. "I guess it's a good thing you've got so much self-control."

"I could slip." Her tone was thoughtful.

"If you're going to have a lapse in control, I can think of a better place for it." I reached for her face, trying to pull myself up to kiss her. Her arms tensed, holding me back.

She sighed. "Must I always be the responsible one?"

I grinned in the darkness. "No. Let me be in charge of responsibility for a few minutes… or hours."

"Don't tempt me, Anna."

I could only laugh.

"Goodnight, Anna."

"Wait—there was something else I wanted to ask you about."

"What's that?"

"I was talking to Royal last night…"

Her body tensed again. "Yes. He was thinking about that when I got in. He gave you quite a lot to consider, didn't he?"

Her voice was anxious, and I realized that she thought I wanted to talk about the reasons Royal had give me for staying human. But I was interested in something much more pressing.

"He told me a little bit… about the time your family lived in Denali."

There was a short pause; this beginning took her by surprise. "Yes?"

"He mentioned something about a bunch of beautiful vampires… and you."

She didn't answer, though I waited for a long moment.

"Don't worry," I said, after the silence had grown uncomfortable. "He told me you didn't… show any preference. But I was just wondering, you know, if any ofthemhad. Shown a preference for you, I mean."

Again she said nothing.

"Which one?" I asked, trying to keep my voice casual, and not quite managing. "Or was there more than one?"

No answer. I wished I could see her face, so I could try to guess what this silence meant.

"Alice will tell me," I said. "I'll go ask her right now."

Her arms tightened; I was unable to squirm even an inch away.

"It's late," she said. Her voice had a little edge to it that was something new. Sort of nervous, maybe a little embarrassed. "Besides, I think Alice stepped out…"

"It's bad," I guessed. "It's really bad, isn't it?" I started to fill nauseous as I imagined the gorgeous immortal rival I'd never realized I had.

"Calm down, Anna," she said, kissing the tip of my nose. "You're being absurd."

"Am I? Then why don't you tell me?"

"Because there's nothing to tell. You're blowing this wildly out of proportion."

"Which one?" I insisted.

She sighed. "Taras expressed a little interest. I let him know, in a very courteous, sweet fashion, that I did not return that interest. End of story."

I kept my voice as even as possible. "Tell me something—what does Taras look like?"

"Just like the rest of us—white skin, gold eyes," she answered too quickly.

"And, of course, extraordinarily beautiful."

I felt her shrug.

"I suppose, to human eyes," she said, indifferent. "You know what, though?"

"What?" My voice was petulant.

She put her lips right to my ear; her cold breath tickled. "I prefer redheads."

"He's blond. That figures."

"Strawberry blond—not at all my type."

I thought about that for a while, trying to concentrate as her lips moved slowly along my cheek, down my throat, and back up again. She made the circuit three times before I spoke.

"Iguessthat's okay, then," I decided.

"Hmm," she whispered against my skin. "You're quite adorable when you're jealous. It's surprisingly enjoyable."

I scowled into the darkness. "Don't push your luck tonight."

"I'm sorry." She chuckled. "It's late," she said again, murmuring, almost crooning now, her voice smoother than silk. "Sleep, my Anna. Dream happy dreams. You are the only one who has ever touched my heart. It will always be yours. Sleep, my only love."

She started to hum my lullaby, and I knew it was only a matter of time until I succumbed, so I closed my eyes and snuggled closer into her chest.


	9. target

Alice dropped me off in the morning, in keeping with the slumber party charade. It wouldn't be long until Elsa showed up, officially returning from her "hiking" trip. All of the pretenses were starting to wear on me. I wouldn't miss this after moving out.

David peeked through the front window when he heard me slam the car door. He waved to Alice, and then went to get the door for me.

"Did you have fun?" David asked.

"Sure, it was great. Very… fun."

I carried my stuff in, dumped it all at the foot of the stairs, and wandered into the kitchen to look for a snack.

"You've got a message," David called after me.

On the kitchen counter, the phone message pad was propped up conspicuously against a saucepan.

Kristoff called, David had written.

He said he didn't mean it, and that he's sorry. He wants you to call him. Be nice and give him a break. He sounded upset.

I grimaced. David didn't usually editorialize on my messages.

Kristoff could just go ahead and be upset. I didn't want to talk to him. Last I'd heard, they weren't big on allowing phone calls from the other side. If Kristoff preferred me dead, then maybe he should get used to the silence.

My appetite evaporated. I turned an about face and went to put my things away.

"Aren't you going to call Krostoff?"David asked. He was leaning around the living room wall, watching me pick up.

"No."

I started up the stairs.

"C'mon, Anna," he said. "Forgiveness is divine."

"Duly noted," I muttered as I stalked up the stairs.

I reached into my bag and pulled out my phone; I'd ignored it since getting back to the Cullens' house. I had nearly thirty missed calls from Kristoff. I sighed and turned the phone off. Shoving it back in my bag.

I knew the laundry was building up, so after I put my toothpaste away and threw my dirty clothes in the hamper, I went to strip David's bed. I left his sheets in a pile at the top of the stairs and went to get mine.

I paused beside the bed, cocking my head to the side.

Where was my pillow? I turned in a circle, scanning the room. No pillow. I noticed that my room looked oddly tidy. Hadn't my gray sweatshirt been draped over the low bedpost on the footboard? And I would swear there had been a pair of dirty socks behind the rocking chair, along with the red button up shirt I'd tried on two mornings ago, but decided was too dressy for school, hanging over the arm… I spun around again. My hamper wasn't empty, but it wasn't overflowing, the way I thought it had been.

Was David doing laundry? That was out of character.

"Dad, did you start the wash?" I shouted out my door.

"Um, no," he shouted back, sounding guilty. "Did you want me to?"

"No, I got it. Were you looking for something in my room?"

"No. Why?"

"I can't find… a shirt…"

"I haven't been in there."

And then I remembered that Alice had been here to get my pajamas. I hadn't noticed that she'd borrowed my pillow, too—probably since I'd avoided the bed. It looked like she had cleaned while she was passing through. I blushed for my slovenly ways.

But that red shirt really wasn't dirty, so I went to save it from the hamper.

I expected to find it near the top, but it wasn't there. I dug through the whole pile and still couldn't find it. I knew I was probably getting paranoid, but it seemed like something else was missing, or maybe more than one something. I didn't even have half a load here.

I ripped my sheets off and headed for the laundry closet, grabbing David's on the way. The washing machine was empty. I checked the dryer, too, half-expecting to find a washed load waiting for me, courtesy of Alice. Nothing. I frowned, mystified.

"Did you find what you were looking for?" David called.

"Not yet."

I went back upstairs to search under my bed. Nothing but dust bunnies. I started to dig through my dresser. Maybe I'd put the red shirt away and forgotten.

I gave up when the doorbell rang. That would be Elsa.

"Door," David informed me from the couch as I skipped past him.

"Thanks, Dad."

I pulled the door open with a smile on my face.

Elsa's golden eyes were wide, her nostrils flared, her lips pulled back over her teeth.

"Elsa?" My voice was sharp with shock as I read her expression. "What--?"

She put her finger to my lips. "Give me two seconds," she whispered. "Don't move."

I stood frozen on the doorstep and she… disappeared. She moved so quickly that David wouldn't even have seen her pass.

Before I could compose myself enough to count to two, she was back. She put her arm around my waist and pulled me swiftly toward the kitchen. Her eyes darted around the room, and she held me against her body as if she were shielding me from something. I threw a glance toward David on the couch, but he was studiously ignoring us.

"Someone's been here," she murmured in my ear after she pulled me to the back of the kitchen. Her voice was strained; it was difficult to hear her over the thumping of the washing machine.

"I swear that no werewolves—" I started to say.

"Not one of them," she interrupted me quickly, shaking her head. "One of us."

Her tone made it clear that she didn't mean a member of her family.

I felt the blood empty from my face.

"Gerda?" I choked.

"It's not a scent I recognize."

"One of the Volturi," I guessed.

"Probably."

"When?"

"That's why I think it must have been them—it wasn't long ago, early this morning while David was sleeping. And whoever it was didn't touch him, so there must have been another purpose."

"Looking for me."

She didn't answer. Her body was frozen, a statue.

"What are you two hissing about in here?" David asked suspiciously, rounding the corner with an empty popcorn bowl in his hands.

I felt green. A vampire had been in the house looking for me while David slept. Panic overwhelmed me, closed my throat. I couldn't answer, I just stared at him in horror.

David's expression changed. He looked uncomfortable. "If you two are having a fight… well, I'll just get going."

He put his bowl in the sink and hurried out of the room.

"Let's go," Elsa said in a low hard voice.

"But David!" The fear was squeezing my chest, making it hard to breathe.

She deliberated for a short second, and then her phone was in her hand.

"Emmett," she muttered into the receiver. She began talking so fast that I couldn't understand the words. It was over in half a minute. She started pulling me toward the door.

"Emmett and Jasper are on their way," she whispered when she felt my resistance. "They'll sweep the woods. David is fine."

I let her drag me along then, too panicked to think clearly. David met my frightened eyes with a concerned glance, which quickly turned to confusion. Elsa had me out the door before David could say anything.

"Where are we going?" I couldn't stop whispering, even after we were in the car.

"We're going to talk to Alice," she told me, her volume normal but her voice bleak.

"You think maybe she saw something?"

She stared at the road through narrowed eyes. "Maybe."

They were waiting for us, on alert after Elsa's call. It was like walking into a museum, everyone still as statues in various poses of stress.

"What happened?" Elsa demanded as soon as we were through the door. I was shocked to see that she was glowering at Alice, her hands fisted in anger.

Alice stood with her arms folded tight across her chest. Only her lips moved. "I have no idea. I didn't see anything."

"How is thatpossible?" she hissed.

"Elsa," I scolded. I didn't like her talking to Alice this way.

Carlisle interrupted in a calming voice. "It's not an exact science, Elsa."

"He was in Anna'sroom, Alice. He could have still been there—waiting for her."

"I would have seen that."

Elsa threw her hands up in exasperation. "Really? You're sure?"

Alice's voice was cold when she answered. "You've already got me watching the Volturi's decisions, watching for Gerda's return, watching Anna's every step. You want to add another? Do I just have to watch David, or Anna's room, or the house, or the whole street, too? Elsa, if I try to do too much, things are going to start slipping through the cracks."

"I looks like they already are," Elsa snapped.

"Anna was never in any danger. There was nothing to see."

"If you're watching Italy, why didn't you see them send—"

"I don't think it's them," Alice insisted. "I would have seen that."

"Who else would leave David alive?"

I shuddered.

"I don't know," Alice said.

"Helpful."

"Stop it, Elsa," I snapped. "Mind your temper."

She turned on me, her face still livid, her teeth clenched together. She glared at me for half a second, and then, suddenly, she exhaled. Her eyes widened and her jaw relaxed.

"You're right, Anna. I'm sorry." She looked at Alice. "Forgive me, Alice. I shouldn't be taking this out on you. That was inexcusable."

"I understand," Alice assured her. "I'm not happy about it, either."

Elsa took a deep breath. "Okay, let's look at this logically. What are the possibilities?"

Everyone seemed to thaw out at once. Alice relaxed and leaned against the back of the couch. Carlisle walked slowly toward her, his eyes far away. Esme sat on the sofa in front of Alice, curling her legs up on the seat. Only Royal remained unmoving, his back to us, staring out the glass wall.

Elsa pulled me to the sofa and I sat next to Esme, who shifted to put her arms around me. She held one of my hands tightly in both of hers.

"Gerda?" Carlisle asked.

Elsa shook her head. "No. I didn't know the scent. This stranger might have been from the Volturi, someone I've never met…"

Alice shook her head. "Aro hasn't asked anyone to look for Anna yet. Iwillsee that. I'm waiting for it."

Elsa's head snapped up. "You're watching for an official command."

"You think someone's acting on their own? Why?"

"Caius's idea," Elsa suggested, her face tightening again.

"Or Jane's…," Alice said. "They both have the resources to send an unfamiliar face…"

Elsa scowled. "And the motivation.

"It doesn't make sense, though," Esme said. "If whoever it was meant to wait for Anna, Alice would have seen that. He—or she—had no intention of hurting Anna. Or David, for that matter."

I cringed at my father's name.

"It's going to be fine, Anna," Esme murmured, smoothing my hair.

"But what was the point then?" Carlisle mused.

"Checking to see if I'm still human?" I guessed.

"Possible," Carlisle said.

Royal breathed out a sigh, loud enough for me to hear. He'd unfrozen, and his face was turned expectantly toward the kitchen. Elsa, on the other hand, looked discouraged.

Emmett burst through the kitchen door, Jasper right behind him.

"Long gone, hours ago," Emmett announced, disappointed. "The trail went East, then South, and disappeared on a side road. Had a car waiting."

"That's bad luck," Elsa muttered. "If he'd gone west… well, it would be nice for those dogs to make themselves useful."

I winced, and Esme rubbed my shoulder.

Jasper looked at Carlisle. "Neither of us recognized him. But here." He held out something green and crumpled. Carlisle took it from him and held it to his face. I saw, as it exchanged hands, that it was a broken fern frond. "Maybe you know the scent."

"No," Carlisle said. "Not familiar. No one I've ever met."

"Perhaps we're looking at this the wrong way. Maybe it's a coincidence…," Esme began, but stopped when she saw everyone else's incredulous expressions. "I don't mean a coincidence that a stranger happened to pick Anna's house to visit at random. I meant that maybe someone was just curious. Our scent is all around her. Was he wondering what draws us there?"

"Why wouldn't he just come here then? If he was curious?" Emmett demanded.

"You would," Esme said with a sudden, fond smile. "The rest of us aren't always so direct. Our family is very large—he or she might be frightened. But David wasn't harmed. This doesn't have to be an enemy."

Just curious. Like Hans and Gerda had been curious, in the beginning? The thought of Gerda made me tremble, though the one thing they seemed certain of was that it had not been her. Not this time. Gerda would stick to her obsessed pattern. This was just someone else, a stranger.

I was slowly realizing that vampires were much bigger participants in this world than I'd once thought. How many times did the average human cross paths with them, completely unaware? How many deaths, obliviously reported as crimes and accidents, were really due to their thirst? How crowded would this new word be if I ever joined it?

The shrouded future sent a shiver down my spine.

The Cullens pondered Esme's words with varying expressions. I could see that Elsa did not accept her theory, and that Carlisle very much wanted to.

Alice pursed her lips. "I don't think so. The timing of it was too perfect… This visitor was so careful to make no contact. Almost like he or she knew that I would see…"

"He could have other reasons for not making contact," Esme reminded her.

"Does it really matter who it was?" I asked. "Just the chance that someonewaslooking for me… isn't that bad enough? God, I thought I had more time…"

"It will be alright, Anna," Elsa said quickly. "It's not that bad. If you're really in danger, we'll know."

"But what about David? What if my little guest had happened to be thirsty last night? As long as I'm around David, he's a target too. If anything happened to him, it would be all my fault!"

"Hardly, Anna," Esme said, patting my hair again. "And nothing will happen to David. We're just going to have to be more careful."

"Morecareful?" I repeated in disbelief.

"It's all going to be fine, Anna," Alice promised; Elsa squeezed my hand.

And I could see, looking at all of their faces one by one, that they truly believed it would be fine.

It was a quiet ride home. I was anxious and tense.

"You won't be alone for a second," Elsa promised as she drove me to David's. "Someone will always be there. Emmett, Alice, Jasper…"

I sighed. "I feel bad. They'll get so bored, they'll have to kill me themselves, just for something to do."

Elsa gave me a sour look. "Hilarious, Anna."

David was in a cautious mood when we got back. He could see the tension between me and Elsa, and it made him nervous for me, probably. He watched me throw together his dinner with a peculiar look on his face. Elsa had excused herself for a moment, to do some surveillance, I assumed, but David waited till she was back to pass on my messages.

"Kristoff called again," David said as soon as Elsa was in the room. I kept my face empty as I set the plate in front of him.

"Is that a fact?"

David frowned. "Don't be petty, Anna. He sounded really low."

"Is Kristoff paying you for all the P.R., or are you a volunteer?"

David grumbled incoherently at me until the food cut off his garbled complaint.

Though he didn't realize it, he'd found his mark.

My life was feeling a lot like a game of dice right now—would the next roll come up snake eyes? What if somethingdidhappen to me? It seemed worse than petty to leave Kristoff feeling guilty about what he'd said.

But I didn't want to talk to him with David around, and to have to watch my every word so I didn't let the wrong thing slip. Thinking about this made me jealous of Kristoff and Billy's relationship. How easy it must be when you had no secrets from the person you lived with.

So I would wait for the morning. I most likely wasn't going to die tonight, after all, and it wouldn't hurt him to feel guilty for twelve more hours. It might even be good for him.

When Elsa officially left for the evening, I wondered who was out in the downpour, keeping an eye on David and me. I felt awful for Alice or whoever else it might be, but still comforted. I had to admit it was nice, knowing I wasn't alone. And Elsa was back in record time.

She sang me to sleep again and—aware even in unconsciousness that she was there—I slept free of nightmares.

In the morning, David left to go fishing with Deputy Mark before I was up. I decided to use this lack supervision to call Kristoff.

"I'm going to let Kristoff off the hook," I warned Elsa after I'd eaten breakfast.

"I knew you'd forgive him," she said with an easy smile. "Holding grudges is not one of your many talents."

I rolled my eyes, but I was pleased. It seemed like Elsa really was over the whole anti-werewolf thing.

I didn't look at the time until after I'd picked up my phone and dialed. It was a little early for calls, and I worried that I would wake Billy and Kristoff, but someone picked up before the second ring, so he couldn't have been too far from the phone.

"Hello?" a dull voice said.

"Kristoff?"

"Anna!" he exclaimed. "Oh, Anna, I'm so sorry!" he tripped over the words as he hurried to get them out. "I swear I didn't mean it. I was just being stupid. I was angry—but that's no excuse. It was the stupidest thing I've ever said in my life and I'm sorry. Don't be mad at me, please? Please. Lifetime of servitude up for grabs—all you have to do is forgive me."

"I'm not mad. You're forgiven."

"Thank you," he breathed fervently. "I can't believe I was such a jerk."

"Don't worry about that—I'm used to it."

He laughed, exuberant with relief. "Come down to see me," he begged. "I want to make it up to you."

"How?"

"Anything you want. Cliff diving," he suggested, laughing again.

"Oh,there'sa brilliant idea."

"I'll keep you safe," he promised. "No matter what you want to do."

I glanced at Elsa. Her face was very calm, but I was sure this was not the time.

"Not right now, Kristoff."

"She'snot thrilled with me, is she?" Kristoff's voice was ashamed, rather than bitter, for a change.

"That's not the problem. There's… well, there's this other problem that's slightly more worrisome than a jerk werewolf…" I tried to keep my tone joking, but I didn't fool him.

"What's wrong?" he demanded.

"Um." I wasn't sure what I should tell him.

Elsa held out her hand for my phone. I looked at her face carefully. Sheseemedcalm enough.

"Anna?" Kristoff asked.

Elsa sighed, holding her hand closer.

"Do you mind speaking to Elsa?" I asked apprehensively. "She wants to talk to you."

There was a long pause.

"Okay," Kristoff finally agreed. "This should be interesting."

I handed the phone to Elsa; I hoped she could read the warning in my eyes.

"Hello, Kristoff," Elsa said, perfectly polite.

There was a silence. I bit my lip, trying to guess how Kristoff would answer.

"Someone was here—not a scent I know," Elsa explained. "Has your pack come across anything new?"

Another pause, while Elsa nodded to herself, unsurprised.

"Here's the crux, Kristoff. I won't be letting Anna out of my sight till I get this taken care of. It's nothing personal—"

Kristoff interrupted her then, and I could hear the buzz of his voice from the receiver. Whatever he was saying, he was more intense than before. I tried to unsuccessfully to make out the words.

"You might be right—," Elsa began, but Kristoff was arguing again. Neither of them sounded angry, at least.

"That's an interesting suggestion. We're quite willing to renegotiate. If Sam is amenable."

Kristoff's voice was quieter now. I started chewing on my thumbnail as I tried to read Elsa's expression.

"Thank you," Elsa replied.

Then Kristoff said something that caused a surprised expression to flicker across Elsa's face.

"I'd planned to go alone, actually," Elsa said, answering the unexpected question. "And leave Anna with the others."

Kristoff's voice rose in pitch, and it sounded like he was trying to be persuasive.

"I'll try to consider it objectively," Elsa promised. "As objectively as I'm capable of."

The pause was shorter this time.

"That's not a half-bad idea. When? …No, that's fine. I'd like a chance to follow the trial personally, anyway. Ten minutes… Certainly," Elsa said. She held my phone out to me. "Anna?"

I took it slowly, feeling confused.

"What was that all about?" I asked Kristoff, my voice peeved. I knew it was juvenile, but I felt excluded.

"A truce, I think. Hey, do me a favor," Jristoff suggested. "Try to convince your vampire that the safest place for you to be—especially when she leaves—is on the reservation. We're well able to handle anything."

"Is that what you were trying to sell her?"

"Yeah. It makes sense. David's probably better off here, too. As much as possible."

"Get Billy on it," I agreed. I hated that I was putting David within the range of the crosshairs that always seemed to be centered on me. "What else?"

"Just rearranging some boundaries, so we can catch anyone who gets too near Forks. I'm not sure if Sam will go for it, but until he comes around, I'll keep an eye on things."

"What do you mean by 'keep an eye on things'?"

"I mean that if you see a wolf running around your house, don't shoot at it."

"Of course not. You really shouldn't do anything… risky, though."

He snorted. "Don't worry about me, Anna. I can take care of myself."

I sighed.

"I also tried to convince her to let you visit. She's prejudiced, so don't let her give you any crap about safety. She knows as well as I do that you'd be safe here."

"I'll keep that in mind."

"See you in a few," Kristoff said.

"You're coming up?" I couldn't contain the excitement in my voice.

"Yeah. I'm going to get the scent of your visitor so we can track him if he comes back."

"Kristoff, I really don't like the idea of you tracking—"

"Comeon, Anna," he interrupted. Kristoff laughed, and then hung up.


	10. scent

It was all very childish. Why on earth should Elsa have to leave for Kristoff to come over? Weren't we past this kind of immaturity?

"It's not that I feel any personal antagonism toward him, Anna, it's just easier for both of us," Elsa told me at the door. "I won't be far away. You'll be safe."

"I'm not worried aboutthat."

She smiled, and then a sly look came into her eye. Sh pulled me close, burying her face in my hair. I could feel her cool breath saturate the strands as she exhaled; it raised goose bumps on my neck.

"I'll be right back," she said, and then she laughed aloud as if I'd just told a good joke.

"What's so funny?"

But Elsa just grinned and loped off toward the trees without answering.

Grumbling to myself, I went to clean up the kitchen. Before I even had the sink full of water, the doorbell rang. It was hard to get used to how much faster Kristoff waswithouthis car. How everyone seemed to be so much faster than me…

"Come in, Kristoff!" I shouted.

I was concentrating on piling the dishes into the bubbly water, and I'd forgotten that Kristoff moved like a ghost these days. So it made me jump when his voice was suddenly there behind me.

"Should you really leave your door unlocked like that? Oh, sorry."

I'd slopped myself with the dishwater when he'd startled me.

"I'm not worried about anyone who would be deterred by a locked door," I said while I wiped the front of my shirt with a dishtowel.

"Good point," he agreed.

I turned to look at him, eyeing him critically. "Is it really so impossible to wear clothes, Kristoff?" I asked. Once again, Kristoff was bare-chested, wearing nothing but a pair of old, low-riding, cut-off jeans. Secretly, I wondered if he was just so proud of his new muscles that he couldn't stand to cover them up. I had to admit, they were very impressive—but I'd never thought of him as vain. "I mean, I know you don't get cold anymore, but still."

He ran a hand through his wet hair; it was falling in his eyes.

"It's just easier," he explained.

"What's easier?"

He grinned. "It's enough of a pain to carry the shorts around with me, let alone a complete outfit. What do I look like, a pack wolf?"

I frowned. "What are you talking about, Kristoff?"

His expression was amused, like I was missing something obvious. "My clothes don't just pop in and out of existence when I change—I have to carry them with me while I run. Pardon me for keeping my burden light."

I turned bright red. "I guess I didn't think about that," I muttered.

He laughed and pointed to a black leather cord, thin as a strand of yarn, that was wound three times below his left calf like an anklet. I hadn't noticed before that his feet were bare, too. "That's more than just a fashion statement—it sucks to carry jeans in your mouth."

I didn't know what to say to that.

He grinned. "Does my being half-naked bother you?"

"No." I blushed deeper.

Kristoff laughed again, and I turned my back on him to focus on the dishes. I couldn't shake the blush from my face, and I was fumbling with the dishes. I dropped another plate, splashing my shirt with more water. I huffed in frustration.

"Well, I suppose I should get to work." He sighed. "I wouldn't want to give her an excuse to say I'm slacking on my side."

"Kristoff, it's not your job—"

He raised a hand to cut me off. "I'm working on a volunteer basis here. Now, where is the intruder's scent the worst?"

"My bedroom, I think."

His eyes narrowed. He didn't like that any more than Elsa had.

"I'll just be a minute."

"I'll go with you, I need to change my shirt—it's soaked."

He followed me up the stairs into my room. His nose immediately wrinkled in disgust. I moved to the closet to grab a dry shirt while he paced about the room.

"It reeks in here, Anna."

"I'll buy some air freshener." I joked as I pulled my shirt off.

He laughed, and then abruptly cut off. I turned around to see what was wrong, and caught him looking at me, slightly wide-eyed.

"Eyes front, soldier." I laughed, pulling on a dry shirt.

"Sorry, sorry," he blushed turning away.

I couldn't help but smirk a little as I walked toward the door. "Knock yourself out, I'll be downstairs."

When I got to the kitchen, I went back to the dishes. The only sound was the brush's plastic bristles scraping round and round on the ceramic plate I was holding. I listened for something from above, a creak of the floorboard, the click of a door. There was nothing. I realized I'd been cleaning the same plate far longer than necessary, and I tried to pay attention to what I was doing.

"Whew!" Kristoff said, inches behind me, scaring me again.

"Yeesh, Kristoff!"

"Sorry. Here—" Kristoff took the towel and mopped up my new spill. "I'll make it up to you. You wash, I'll rinse and dry."

"Sure." I gave him the plate.

"Well, the scent was easy enough to catch."

"That's good."

I washed and he tried in companionable silence for a few minutes.

"Can I ask you something?"

I handed him another plate. "That depends on what you want to know."

"I'm not trying to be a jerk or anything—I'm honestly curious," Kristoff assured me.

"Okay. Go head."

He paused for half a second. "What's it like—having a vampire for a girlfriend?"

I narrowed my eyes. "It's pretty great."

"I'm serious. The idea doesn't bother you—it never creeps you out?"

"Nope."

He was silent as he reached for the bowl in my hands. I peeked up at his face—he was frowning, his lower lip jutting out.

"Anything else?" I asked.

He wrinkled his nose again. "Well… I was wondering… do you… y'know,kissher?"

I laughed. "Yes."

He shuddered. "Ugh."

"To each his own," I murmured.

"You don't worry about the fangs?"

I smacked his arm, splashing him with dishwater. "Oh, knock it off, Kristoff. You know she doesn't have fangs!"Just really sharp teeth.

"Close enough," he muttered.

I rolled my eyes and scrubbed a boning knife with more force than necessary.

"Can I ask another one?" he asked softly when I passed the knife to him. "Just curious, again."

"Fine," I answered.

He turned the knife over and over in his hands under the stream of water. When he spoke, it was only whisper. "You said maybe a few weeks… when, exactly…?" He couldn't finish.

"I don't know, Kristoff," I whispered back, watching his face warily. "Maybe after Graduation."

"So soon," he breathed, his eyes closing. It didn't sound like a question. It sounded like a lament. The muscles in his arms tightened and his shoulders were stiff.

"OW!" he shouted; it had gotten so still in the room that I jumped a foot in the air at his outburst.

His right hand had curled into a tense fist around the blade of the knife—he unclenched his hands and the knife clattered onto the counter. Across his palm was a long, deep gash. The blood streamed down his fingers and dripped on the floor.

"Damn it! Ouch!" he complained.

My head spun and my stomach rolled. I clung to the countertop with one hand, took a deep breath through my mouth, and forced myself to get a grip so that I could take care of him.

"Oh, no, Kristoff! Oh, crap! Here, wrap this around it!" I shoved the dishtowel at him, reaching for his hand. He shrugged away from me.

"It's nothing, Anna, don't worry about it."

The room started to shimmer a little around the edges.

I took another deep breath. "Don't worry?! You sliced your hand open!"

He ignored the dish towel I pushed at him. He put his hand under the faucet and let the water wash over the wound. The water ran red. My head whirled.

"Anna," he said.

I looked away from the wound, up to his face. He was frowning, but his expression was calm.

"What?"

"You look like you're going to pass out, and you're biting your lip off. Stop it. Relax. Breathe. I'm fine."

I inhaled through my mouth and removed my teeth from my lower lip. "Don't be brave."

He rolled his eyes.

"Let's go. I'll drive you to the ER." I was pretty sure I would be okay to drive. The walls were holding steady now, at least.

"Not necessary." Kristoff turned off the water and took the towel from my hand. He twisted it loosely around his palm.

"Wait," I protested. "Let me look at it." I clutched the counter more firmly, to hold myself upright if the wound made me woozy again.

"Do you have a medical degree that you never told me about?"

"Just give me the chance to decide whether or not I'm going to throw a fit over taking you to the hospital."

He made a face of mock horror. "Please, not a fit!"

"If you don't let me see your hand, a fit is guaranteed."

He inhaled deeply, and then let out a gusty sigh. "Fine."

He unwound the towel and, when I reached out to take the cloth, he laid his hand in mine.

It took me a few seconds. I even flipped his hand over, though I was sure he'd cut his palm. I turned his hand back up, finally realizing that the angry pink, puckered line was all that was left of his wound.

"But… you were bleeding… so much."

I ran my fingers along the line, and looked up his eyes, steady and somber on mine.

"I heal fast."

"I'll say," I breathed.

I'd seen the long gash clearly, seen the blood that flowed into the sink. The rust-and-salt smell of it had almost pulled me under. It should have needed stitches. It should have taken days to scab over and then weeks to fade into the shiny pink scar that marked his skin now.

He screwed his mouth up into a half a smile and thumped his fist once against his chest. "Werewolf, remember?"

His eyes held mine for an immeasurable moment.

"Right," I finally said.

He laughed at my expression. "I told you this. You saw Paul's scar."

I kneeled down and dug the bleach out of the cabinet under the sink. Then I poured some on a dusting rag and started scrubbing the floor. The burning scent of the bleach cleared the last of the dizziness from my head.

"Let me clean up," Kristoff said.

"I got this. Throw that towel in the wash, will you?"

When I was sure the floor smelled of nothing but bleach, I got up and rinsed the right side of the sink with bleach, too. Then I went to the laundry closet beside the pantry, and poured a cupful into the washing machine before starting it. Kristoff watched me with a disapproving look on his face.

"Do you have obsessive-compulsive disorder?" he asked when I was done.

Huh. Maybe. But at least I had a good excuse this time. "We're a bit sensitive to blood around here. I'm sure you can understand that."

"Oh." He wrinkled his nose again.

"Why not make it as easy as possible for him? What he's doing is hard enough."

"Sure, sure. Why not?"

I pulled the plug, and let the dirty water drain from the sink.

"Can I ask you something, Anna?"

I sighed.

"What's it like—having a werewolf for a best friend?"

The question caught me off guard. I laughed out loud.

"Does it creep you out?" he pressed before I could answer.

"No. When the werewolf is being nice," I qualified, "it's the best."

He grinned widely, his teeth bright against his russet skin. "Thanks, Anna," he said, and then he grabbed my hand and pulled me into one of his tight bear hugs.

Before I had time to react, he dropped his arms and stepped away.

"Ugh," he said, his nose wrinkling. "Your hair stinks worse than your room."

"Sorry," I muttered. I suddenly understood what Elsa had been laughing about earlier, after breathing on me.

"One of the many hazards of socializing with vampires," Kristoff said, shrugging. "It makes you smell bad. A minor hazard, comparatively."

I glared at him. "I only smell bad to you, Kristoff."

"Well," he grinned. "Yousmell great. The vampire stink on you, not so much."

"Thanks," I couldn't help but chuckle a little.

"See you around, babe."

"Are you leaving?"

"He's waiting for me to go. I can hear him outside."

"Oh."

"I'll go out the back," he said, and then he paused. "Hold up a sec—hey, do you think you can come to La Push tonight? We're having a bonfire party. Emily will be there, and you could meet Kim… And I know Quil wants to see you, too. He's pretty peeved that you found out before he did."

I grinned at that. I could just imagine how that would have irked Quil—Kristoff's little human guy friend down with the werewolves while he was still clueless. And then I sighed. "I'd like to, Kristoff, but I don't know. Things are pretty tense right now…"

"C'mon, you think somebody's going to get past all—all six of us?"

There was a strange pause as he stuttered over the end of his question. I wondered if he had trouble saying the wordwerewolfaloud, the way I often had difficulty withvampire.

His big dark eyes were full of unashamed pleading.

"I'll ask," I promised.

He made a noise in the back of his throat. "Is she your warden, now, too? You know, I saw this story on the news last week about controlling, abusive teenage relationships and—"

"Okay!" I cut him off, and then gave him a playful shove. "Time for the werewolf to get out!"

He grinned. "Bye, babe. Be sure you askpermission."

I pinched his arm and he let out a surprised yelp before bursting into laughter as he ducked out the door. I giggled to myself once I was alone.

Seconds after he was gone, Elsa walked slowly into the kitchen, raindrops glistening like diamonds set into the blonde of her hair. Her eyes were wary.

"Did you two get into a fight?" she asked.

"Hey," I smiled, throwing my arms around her neck.

"Hi, there." She laughed and wrapped her arms around me. "Are you trying to distract me? It's working."

"No, I didn't fight with Kristoff. Why?"

"I was just wondering why you stabbed him. Not that I object." With her chin, she gestured to the knife on the counter.

"Damn! I thought I got everything."

I pulled away from her and ran to put the knife in the sink before I doused it with bleach.

"I didn't stab him," I explained as I worked. "He forgot he had a knife in his hand."

Elsa chuckled. "That's not nearly as fun as the way I imagined it."

"Be nice."

She took a big envelope from her jacket pocket and tossed it on the counter. "I got your mail."

"Anything good?"

"Ithink so."

My eyes narrowed suspiciously at her tone. I went to investigate.

She'd folded the legal-sized envelope in half. I smoothed it open, surprised at the weight of the expensive paper, and read the return address.

"Dartmouth? Is this a joke?"

"I'm sure it's an acceptance. It looks exactly like mine."

"Good grief, Elsa—what did youdo?"

"I sent in your application, that's all."

"I may not be Dartmouth material, but I'm not stupid enough to believethat."

"Dartmouth seems to think that you're Dartmouth material."

I took a deep breath and counted slowly to ten. "That's very generous of them," I finally said. "However, accepted or not, there is still the minor matter of tuition. I can't afford it, and I'm not letting you throw away enough money to buy yourself another sports car just so that I can pretend to go to Dartmouth next year."

"I don't need another sports car. And you don't have to pretend anything," she murmured. "You might even like it. Just think about it, Anna. Imagine how excited David and Renée would be…"

Her velvet voice painted a picture in my head before I could object. Of course David would explode with pride—no one in the town of Forks would be able to escape the fallout from his excitement. And Renée would be hysterical with joy at my triumph—though she'd swear she wasn't at all surprised…

I tried to shake the image out of my head. "Elsa. I'm worried about living through graduation, let alone this summer or next fall."

Her arms wrapped around me again. "No one is going to hurt you. You have all the time in the world."

I sighed. "I'm mailing the contents of my bank account to Alaska tomorrow. It's the safest plan. It's far enough that David won't expect a visit until Christmas at the earliest. That way if we have to run or if I… decide to change, we'll have an easy excuse. You know," I teased halfheartedly, "this whole secrecy and deception thing is kind of a pain."

Elsa's expression hardened. "It gets easier. After a few decades, everyone you know is dead. Problem solved."

I flinched.

"Sorry, that was harsh."

I stared down at the big white envelope, not seeing it. "But still true."

The washing machine thumped and stuttered to a halt.

"Stupid piece of junk," I muttered as I pulled away from her. I moved the one small towel that had unbalanced the otherwise empty machine, and started it again.

"This reminds me," I said. "Could you ask Alice what she did with my stuff when she cleaned my room? I can't find it anywhere."

She looked at me with confused eyes. "Alice cleaned your room?"

"Yeah, I guess that's what she was doing. When she came to get my pajamas and pillow and stuff to hold me hostage." I glowered at her briefly. "She picked up everything that was lying around, my shirts, my socks, and I don't know where she put them."

Elsa continued to look confused for one short moment, and then, abruptly she was rigid.

"When did you notice your things were missing?"

"When I got back from the fake slumber party. Why?"

"I don't think Alice took anything. Not your clothes, or your pillow. The things that were taken, these were things you'd worn… and touched… and slept on?"

"Yes. What is it, Elsa?"

Her expression was strained. "Things with your scent."

"Oh!"

We stared into each other's eyes for a long moment.

"My visitor," I muttered.

"He was gathering traces… evidence. To prove that he'd found you?"

"Why?" I whispered.

"I don't know. But, Anna, I swear Iwillfound out. I wil."

"I know you will," I said, laying my head against her chest. Leaning there, I felt her phone vibrate in his pocket.

She pulled out her phone and glanced at the number. "Just the person I need to talk to," she murmured, and then she flipped it open. "Carlisle, I—" She broke off and listened, her face taut with concentration for a few minutes. "I'll check it out. Listen…"

She explained about my missing things, but from the side I was hearing, it sounded like Carlisle had no insights for us.

"Maybe I'll go…," Elsa said, trailing off as her eyes drifted toward me. "Maybe not. Don't let Emmett go alone, you know how he gets. At least ask Alice to keep an eye on things. We'll figure this out later."

She slid the phone back into her pocket. "Where's the paper?" she asked me.

"Um, I'm not sure. Why?"

"I need to see something. Did David already throw it out?"

"Maybe…"

Elsa disappeared.

She was back in half a second, new diamonds in her hair, a wet newspaper in her hands. She spread it out on the table, her eyes scanning quickly across the headlines. She leaned in, intent on something she was reading, one finger tracing passages that interested her most.

"Carlisle's right… yes… very sloppy. Young and crazed? Or a death wish?" she muttered to herself.

I went to peek over her shoulder.

The headline of theSeattle Timesread: "Murder Epidemic Continues—Police Have No New Leads."

It was almost the same story David had been complaining about a few weeks ago—the big-city violence that was pushing Seattle up the national murder hot-spot list. It wasn't exactly the same story, though. The numbers were a lot higher.

"It's getting worse," I murmured.

She frowned. "Altogether out of control. This can't be the work ofjustone newborn vampire. What's going on? It's as if they've never heard of the Volturi. Which is possible, I guess. No one has explained the rules to them… so who is creating them, then?"

"The Volturi?" I repeated, shuddering.

"This is exactly the kind of thing they routinely wipe out—immortals who threaten to expose us. They just cleaned up a mess like this a few years ago in Atlanta, and it hadn't gotten nearly this bad. They will intervene soon, unless we can find some way to calm the situation. I'd really rather they didn't come to Seattle just now. As long as they're this close… they might decide to check on you."

I shuddered again. "What can we do?"

"We need to know more before we can decide that. Perhaps if we can talk to these young ones, explain the rules, it can be resolved peacefully." She frowned, like she didn't think the chances of that were good. "We'll wait until Alice has an idea of what's going on… We don't want to step in until it's absolutely necessary. After all, it's not our responsibility. But it's good we have Jasper," she added, almost to herself. "If we are dealing with newborns, he'll be helpful."

"Jasper? Why?"

Elsa smiled darkly. "Jasper is sort of an expert on young vampires."

"What do you mean, an expert?"

"You'll have to ask him—the story is involved."

"What a mess," I mumbled.

"It does feel that way, doesn't it? Like it's coming at us from all sides these days." She sighed. "Do you ever think that your life might be easier if you weren't in love with me?"

"Maybe. It wouldn't be nearly as exciting, though."

"For me, it wouldn't be much of a life at all," she smiled gently. "And now, I suppose," she continued with a wry smile, "you have something you want to ask me?"

I raised my eyebrow at her. "Oh, do I?"

"Or maybe not." She grinned. "I was rather under the impression that you'd promised to ask my permission to go to some kind of werewolf soirée tonight."

"Eavesdropping again?"

She grinned. "Just a bit, at the very end."

"Yes, I was going to ask you. I wasn't planning on you saying yes, though. I figured you had enough to stress about."

She put her hand under my chin, and held my face so that she could read my eyes. "Would you like to go?"

"Yes, I would, very much."

"You don't have to ask my permission, Anna. Perhaps you should ask David, though."

"But you know David will say yes."

"I do have a bit more insight into his probable answer than most people would, it's true."

I just stared at her, trying to understand what she wanted. I knew it was foolish of me to want to go hang out with a bunch of big wolf-boys right now when there was so much that was frightening and unexplained going on. Of course, that wasexactlywhy I wanted to go. I wanted to escape the death threats, for just a few hours… to be the less-mature, more-reckless Anna who could laugh it off with Kristoff, if only briefly.

"Anna," Elsa said. "I told you that I was going to be reasonable and trust your judgement. I meant that. If you trust the werewolves, then I'm not going to worry about them."

"Wow," I said, as I had last night.

"And Kristoff's right—about one thing—a pack of werewolves ought to be enough to protect even you for one evening."

"Are you sure?"

"Of course. Only…"

I braced myself.

"I hope you won't mind taking a few precautions? Allowing me to drive you to the boundary line, for one. And then keeping your cell phone on, so that I'll know when to pick you up."

"That sounds… very reasonable."

"Excellent."

She smiled at me, and I could see no trace of apprehension in her jewel-like eyes.

To no one's surprise, David had no problem at all with me going to La Push for a bonfire. Kristoff crowed with excitement when I called to give him the news, and he seemed eager enough to embrace Elsa's safety measures. He promised to meet us at the line between territories at six.

Since I had decided not to sell my motorcycle, I would take it back to La Push where it belonged and if I no longer needed it at some point… well, then, I would insist that Kristoff profit from his work somehow. He could sell it or give it to a friend. It didn't matter to me.

Tonight seemed like a good opportunity to return the bike to Kristoff's garage. As gloomy as I was feeling about things lately, every day seemed like a possible last chance. I didn't have time to procrastinate any task, no matter how minor.

Elsa only nodded when I explained what I wanted, but I thought I saw a flicker of consternation in her eyes, and I knew she was no happier about the idea of me on a motorcycle than David was.

I followed her back to her house, to the garage where I'd left the bike. It wasn't until I pulled the truck in and got out that I realized the consternation might not be entirely about my safety this time.

Next to my little antique motorcycle, overshadowing it, was another vehicle. To call this other vehicle a motorcycle hardly seemed fair, since it didn't seem to belong to the same family as my suddenly shabby-looking bike.

It was big and sleek and silver and—even totally motionless—it looked fast.

"What isthat?"

"Nothing," Elsa murmured.

"It doesn'tlooklike nothing."

Elsa's expression was casual; she seemed determined to blow it off. "Well, I didn't know if you were going to forgive your friend, or he you, and I wondered if you would still want to ride your bike anyway. It sounded like it was something that you enjoyed. I thought I could go with you, if you wished." She shrugged.

I stared at the beautiful machine. Beside it, my bike looked like a broken tricycle despite Kristoff's extensive and impressive work on it.

"I wouldn't be able to keep up with you," I whispered.

Elsa put her hand under my chin and gently turned my face around so that she could see it straight on. With one finger, she tried to push the corner of my mouth up.

"I'd keep pace with you, Anna."

"That wouldn't be much fun for you."

"Of course it would, if we were together."

"That's sweet." I bit my lip and imagined for a moment. "Elsa, if you thought I was going too fast or losing control of the bike or something, what would you do?"

She hesitated, obviously trying to find the right answer. I knew the truth: she'd find some way to save me before I crashed.

Then she smiled. It looked effortless, except for the tiny defensive tightening of her eyes.

"This is something you do with Kristoff. I see that now."

"It's just that, well, it was mine and Kristoff's thing. I really appreciate the gesture though. It was really sweet of you."

"Don't worry about it, love," Elsa said, and then she laughed lightly. "Such a shame it won't get ridden though." She sighed, glancing at the silver motorcycle.

"Elsa, I—"

She interrupted me with a quick kiss. "I said not to worry." Then she smiled, playfully. "Do you like it?"

"The bike? It's beautiful."

"Would you like it?"

My jaw dropped open and I stared at her in disbelief.

"You're kidding right?"

She laughed and kissed my forehead. "I admit, it's a bit… reckless of me." She grinned. "But I think you'd enjoy it, and you'd look very impressive on it."

"I don't know what to say, Elsa."

"It's yours, if you do something for me."

"Whatever you need," I promised quickly.

She dropped my face and leaned over the far side of the big motorcycle, retrieving something she had stashed there.

She came back with one object that was black and shapeless, and another that was dark blue and easily identifiable.

"Please?" she asked, flashing the crooked smile that I loved.

I took the blue helmet, weighing it my hands. "I'll look like a bobble head."

"No, you'll look smart. Smart enough to get yourself hurt." She threw the black thing, whatever it was, over her arm and then took my face in her hands. "There are things between my hands right now that I can't live without. You could take care of them." Then she smiled. "Besides, I got it in my favorite color on you."

I sighed. "Okay, fine. What's that other thing?" I asked suspiciously.

She laughed and shook out some kind of leather jacket. "It's a riding jacket. I hear road rash is quite uncomfortable, not that I would know myself."

She held it out for me. With a deep sigh, I stuffed the helmet on my head. Then I shoved my arms through the sleeves of the jacket. She zipped me in, a smile playing around the corners of her lips, and I took a step back.

The jacket was fitted to my body in a sleek leather, I wasn't used to something so form fitting.

"Be honest, how bad do I look?"

She took another step back and pursed her lips.

"That bad, huh?" I muttered.

"No, no, Anna. Actually…" she seemed to be struggling for the right word. "You look… sexy."

I laughed out loud. "Right."

"Very sexy, really."

"You're just saying that so that I'll wear it," I said. "But that's okay. You're right, it's smarter."

She wrapped her arms around me and pulled me against her chest. "You're silly. I suppose that's part of your charm. Though, I'll admit, this helmet does have its drawbacks."

And then she pulled the helmet off, and wrapped her arm around me and pulled me close to her. Her lips kissed up my neck, along my jaw and then deeply on my lips.

When she finally released me, I felt lightheaded.

"So I look sexy, huh?" I breathed, and she laughed.

"Shall we go?" She whispered against my lips.

And then I felt an uncomfortable feeling in the back of my head, thinking about the drive to La Push. Like an unpleasant memory I didn't want to remember.

"You know what the thought of you dropping me off reminds me of?" I asked. "It's just like when I was a kid and Renée would pass me off to David for the summer. Like when I was seven."

Elsa laughed.

I didn't mention it out loud, but the biggest difference between the two circumstances was that Renée and David had been on better terms.

"Well, I don't want to make you unhappy." Elsa pursed her lips. Then she smiled her crooked smile. "I think, since you agreed to my safety terms, and since I'm trusting you more on what is and isn't dangerous…" she trailed off, and then threw a pointed glance at the silver motorcycle—mysilver motorcycle.

I grinned widely. "Really?"

She nodded once, smirking.

I pulled out my phone and dialed Kristoff's number. He picked up after two rings.

"Hello?" Kristoff's cautious voice asked.

"Kristoff, it's me."

"Hey, Anna," his voice immediately sounded disappointed. "Don't tell me. You can't come."

"Actually, I was going to tell you to meet me but leave the Rabbit at home." I grinned into the phone as Elsa watched, amused.

The silver motorcycle was exhilarating. I flew along the roads, laughing and hollering with pleasure. Kristoff was right; I had gotten very good at riding. Even with this beast of a machine, I still never felt unsafe. In fact, this motorcycle handled better than my old one. Elsa followed close behind in the Volvo, I was sure she was fretting about my safety, even with my helmet and jacket, but I fervently hoped she didn't change her mind about me keeping the silver motorcycle.

About halfway to La Push, we rounded the corner and found Kristoff leaning against a tree. Kristoff's carefully neutral expression dissolved into a confusion, shock, and then a huge grin when he realized it was me.

I came to a half about ten yards away. Elsa parked the Volvo another twenty behind me.

I pulled my helmet off and set it on the seat of my bike, I waved at Kristoff, and mouthedone second. Before running back to the Volvo.

Elsa was already standing in front of it.

"Call me whenever you're ready to come home," she said. "And I'll be here."

"Will do." I promised.

Elsa pulled my old bike out of the trunk of her car—I'd been quite impressed that it had all fit. But it wasn't so hard to manage when you were strong enough to juggle full-sized vans, let alone small motorcycles.

Kristoff watched, making no move to approach, his smile gone and his dark eyes indecipherable.

"You really did look remarkably attractive on that bike." Elsa smiled. "I may not have initially approved of Kristoff teaching you to ride at all, but I suppose I should thank him for teaching you to ride so well."

"Oh, stop." I laughed.

She sighed and leaned towards me. I turned my face up for a goodbye peck, but Elsa took me by surprise, fastening her arms tightly around me and kissing me with as much enthusiasm as she had in the garage—before long, I was gasping for air.

Elsa laughed quietly at something, and then let me go.

"Goodbye," she said. "I really do like the jacket."

As I turned away from her, I thought I saw a flash of something in her eyes that I wasn't supposed to see. I couldn't tell for sure what it was exactly. Worry, maybe. For a second I thought it was panic. But I was probably just making something out of nothing, as usual.

I could feel her eyes on my back as I pushed my old bike toward the invisible vampire-werewolf treaty line to meet Kristoff.

"What's all that?" Kristoff called to me, his voice wary, scrutinizing the motorcycle with an enigmatic expression.

"I thought I should put this back where it belongs," I told him.

He pondered that for one short second, and then his wide smile stretched across his face.

"What aboutthat?" He nodded towards the silver motorcycle.

"Elsa gave it to me today," I smiled, balancing the red bike on the kickstand. "I hope you don't mind me keeping it here with you…" I said playfully, while he eyed the newer bike. "Of course, I won't be able to ride it all the time, sosomeonewill need to ride it when I can't—to keep it in tune, of course."

His eyes went wide with excitement and I laughed walking towards him.

I knew the exact moment that I was in werewolf territory because Kristoff loped quickly over to me, closing the distance in three long strides. He scooped me up into a tight hug and spun me around in a circle.

"You are seriously the best, I could kiss you." He laughed into my ear.

I heard the Volvo's engine growl, and I tensed up.

"Okay, Kristoff, that's enough." I gasped breathlessly.

He laughed and set me down. I turned to wave goodbye, but the silver car was already disappearing around the curve in the road.

"Nice," I commented, shooting him a glare.

His eyes widened in false innocence. "What?"

I rolled my eyes and went to my silver bike.

"Don't I get to ride it?" Kristoff faked a pout.

"When you're beinggood, yes." I said.

He laughed and climbed onto the red bike while I mounted the silver one.

"Elsa's being pretty dang pleasant about this; you don't need to push your luck." I said as I put my helmet on.

He laughed again, louder than before—he found what I'd said very funny indeed. I tried to see the joke as I started the engine on my bike.

"Anna," he finally said—still chuckling—as he kicked on the engine of the other bike, "you can't push what you don't have.


	11. legends

"Are you gonna eat that hot dog?" Paul asked Kristoff, his eyes locked on the last remnant of the huge meal the werewolves had consumed.

Kristoff leaned back against my knees and toyed with the hot dog he had spitted on a straightened wire hanger; the flames at the edge of the bonfire licked along it's blistered skin. He heaved a sigh and patted his stomach. It was somehow still flat, though I'd lost count of how many hot dogs he'd eaten after his tenth. Not to mention the super-sized bag of chips or the two-liter bottle of root beer.

"I guess," Kristoff said slowly. "I'm so full I'm about to puke. But IthinkI can force it down. I won't enjoy it at all, though." He sighed again sadly.

Despite the fact that Paul had eaten at least as much as Kristoff, he glowered and his hands balled up into fists.

"Sheesh." Kristoff laughed. "Kidding, Paul. Here."

He flipped the homemade skewer across the circle. I expected it to land hot-dog-first in the sand, but Paul caught it neatly on the right end without difficulty.

Hanging out with no one but extremely dexterous people all the time was going to give me a complex.

"Thanks, man," Paul said, already over his brief fit of temper.

The fire crackled, settling lower toward the sand. Sparks flew up in a sudden puff of brilliant orange against the black sky. Funny, I hadn't noticed that the sun had set. For the first time, I wondered how late it had gotten. I'd lost track of time completely.

It was easier being with my Quileute friends than I'd expected.

While Kristoff and I had dropped off my bikes at the garage—and he had admitted ruefully that the helmet was a good idea and he should have thought of it himself—I'd started to worry about showing up with him at the bonfire, wondering if the werewolves would consider me a traitor now. Would they be angry for inviting me? Would I ruin the party?

But when Kristoff had towed me out of the forest to the clifftop meeting place—where the fire already roared brighter than the cloud obscured sun—it had all been very casual and light.

"Hey, vampire girl!" Sven had greeted me loudly. Quil had jumped up to high give and kiss me on the cheek. Emily had squeezed my hand when we'd sat on the cool stone ground beside her and Sam.

Other than a few teasing complaints—mostly by Paul—about keeping the bloodsucker stench downwind, I was treated like someone who belonged.

It wasn't just kids in attendance, either. Billy was here, his wheelchair stationed at what seemed to be the natural head of the circle. Beside him on a folding lawn chair, looking quite brittle, was Quil's ancient, white-haired grandfather, Old Quil. Sue Clearwater, widow of David's friend Harry, had a chair on his other side; her two boys, Liam and Olaf, were also there, sitting on the ground like the rest of us. This surprised me, but all three were clearly in on the secret now. From the way Billy and Old Quil spoke to Sue, it sounded like she'd taken Harry's place on the council. Did that make her children automatic members of La Push's most secret society?

I wondered how horrible it was for Liam to sit across the circle from Sam and Emily. His handsome face betrayed no emotion, but he never looked away from the flames. Looking at the perfection of Liam's features, I couldn't help but compare them to Emily's ruined face. What did Liam think of Emily's scars, now that he knew the truth behind them? Did it seem like justice in his eyes?

Little Olaf Clearwater wasn't so little anymore. With his huge, happy grin and his long, gangly build, he reminded me very much of a younger Kristoff. The resemblance made me smile, and then sigh. Was Olaf doomed to have his life change as drastically as the rest of these boys? Was Liam? Was that future why they were allowed to be here?

The whole pack was there: Sam with his Emily, Paul, Sven, Quil, and Jared with Kim, his girlfriend.

My impression of Kim was that she was a nice girl, a little shy, maybe. She was pretty, if not a bit average looking. Nothing about her stood out to me at first, but after a few hours of watching Jared watch Kim, I could no longer find anything average about the girl.

The way he stared at her! It was like a blind man seeing the sun for the first time. Like a collector finding an undiscovered Da Vinci, like a mother looking into the face of her newborn child.

His wondering eyes made me see new things about her—how her skin looked like russet-colored silk in the firelight, how the shape of her lips was a perfect double curve, how white her teeth were against them, how long her eyelashes were, brushing her cheek when she looked down.

Kim's skin sometimes darkened when she met Jared's awed gaze, and her eyes would drop as if in embarrassment, but she had a hard time keeping her eyes away from his for any length of time.

Watching them, I couldn't help but wondered if that was how Elsa looked at me, or even—maybe—if that was how Kristoff looked at me.

Kim was nodding off now against Jared's chest, his arms around her. I imagined she would be very warm there.

"It's getting late," I whispered to Kristoff.

"Don't startthatyet," Kristoff whispered back—though certainly half the group here had hearing sensitive enough to hear us anyway. "The best part is coming."

"What's the best part? You swallowing an entire cow whole?"

Kristoff chuckled his low, throaty laugh. "No. That's the finale. We didn't meet just to eat through a week's worth of food. This is technically a council meeting. It's Quill's first time, and he hasn't heard the stories yet. Well, he'sheardthem, but this will be the first time he knows they're true. That tends to make a guy pay closer attention. Kim and Olaf and Liam are all first-timers, too."

"Stories?"

Kristoff scooted back beside me, where I rested against a low ridge of rock. He put his arm over my shoulder and spoke even lower into my ear.

"The histories we always thought were legends," he said. "The stories of how we came to be. The first is the story of the spirit warriors."

It was almost as if Kristoff's soft whisper was the introduction. The atmosphere changed abruptly around the low-burning fire. Paul and Sven sat up straighter. Jared nudged Kim and then pulled her gently upright.

Emily produced a spiral-bound notebook and pen, looking exactly like a student set for an important lecture. Sam twisted just slightly beside her—so that he was facing the same direction as Old Quil, who was on his other side—and suddenly I realized that the elders of the council here were not three, but four in number.

Liam Clearwater, his face still a handsome and emotionless mask, closed his eyes—not like he was tired, but as if to help his concentration. His brother leaned in toward the elders eagerly.

The fire crackled, sending another explosion of sparks glittering up against the night.

Billy cleared his throat, and, with no more introduction than his son's whisper, began telling the story in his rich, deep voice. The words poured out with precision, as if he knew them by heart, but also with feeling and a subtle rhythm. Like poetry performed by its author.

"The Quileutes have been a small people from the beginning," Billy said. "And we are a small people still, but we have never disappeared. This is because there has always been magic in our blood. It wasn't always the magic of shape-shifting—that came later. First, we were spirit warriors."

Never before had I recognized the ring of majesty that was in Billy Black's voice, though I realized now that this authority had always been there.

Emily's pen sprinted across the sheets of paper as she tried to keep up with him.

"In the beginning, the tribe settled in this harbor and became skilled ship builders and fishermen. But the tribe was small, and the harbor was rich in fish. There were others who coveted our land, and we were too small to hold it. A larger tribe moved against us, and we took to our ships to escape them.

"Kaheleha was not the first spirit warrior, but we do not remember the stories that came before his. We do not remember who was the first to discover this power, or how it had been used before this crisis. Kahelehawasthe first great Spirit Chief in our history. In this emergency, Kaheleha used the magic to defend our land.

"He and all his warriors left the ship—not their bodies, but their spirits. Their women watched over the bodies and the waves, and the men took their spirits back to our harbor.

"They could not physically touch the enemy tribe, but they had other ways. The stories tell us that they could blow fierce winds into their enemy's camps; they could make a great screaming in the wind that terrified their foes. The stories also tell us that the animals could see the spirit warriors and understand them; the animals would do their bidding.

"Kaheleha took his spirit army and wreaked havoc on the intruders. This invading tribe had packs of big, thick-furred dogs that they used to pull their sleds in the frozen north. The spirit warriors turned the dogs against their master and then brought a mighty infestation of bats up from the cliff caverns. They used the screaming wind to aid the dogs in confusing the men. The dogs and the bats won. The survivors scattered, calling our harbor a cursed place. The dogs ran wild when the spirit warriors released them. The Quileutes returned to their bodies and their families, victorious.

"The other nearby tribes, the Hohs and the Makahs, made treaties with the Quileutes. They wanted nothing to do with our magic. We lived in peace with them. When an enemy came against us, the spirit warriors would drive them off.

"Generations passed. Then came the last great Spirit Chief, Taha Aki. He was known for his wisdom, and for being a man of peace. The people lived well and content in his care.

"But there was one man, Utlapa, who was not content."

A low hiss ran around the fire. I was too slow to see where it came from. Billy ignored it and went on with the legend.

"Utlapa was one of Chief Taha Aki's strongest spirit warriors—a powerful man, but a grasping man, too. He thought the people should use their magic to expand their lands, to enslave the Hohs and the Makahs and build an empire.

"Now, when the warriors were their spirit selves, they knew each other's thoughts. Taha Aki saw what Utlapa dreamed, and was angry with Utlapa. Utlapa was commanded to leave the people, and never use his spirit self again. Utlapa was a strong man, but the chief's warriors outnumbered him. He had no choice but to leave. The furious outcast hid in the forest nearby, waiting for a chance to get revenge against the chief.

"Even in times of peace, the Spirit Chief was vigilant in protecting his people. Often, he would go to a sacred, secret place in the mountains. He would leave his body behind and sweep down through the forests and along the coast, making sure no threat approached.

"One day when Taha Aki left to perform his duty, Utlapa followed. At first, Utlapa simply planned to kill the thief, but his plan had its drawbacks. Surely the spirit warrior would seek to destroy him, and they could follow faster than he could escape. As he hid in the rocks and watched the chief prepare to leave his body, another plan occurred to him.

"Taha Aki left his body in the secret place and flew with the winds to keep watch over his people. Utlapa waited until he was sure the chief had traveled some distance with his spirit self.

"Taha Aki knew it the instant Utlapa had joined him in the spirit world, and he also knew Utlapa's murderous plan. He raced back to his secret place, but even the winds weren't fast enough to save him. When he returned, his body was already gone. Utlapa's body lay abandoned, but Utlapa had not left Taha Aki with an escape—he had cut his own body's throat with Taha Aki's hands.

"Taha Aki followed his body down the mountain. He screamed at Utlapa, but Utlapa ignored him as if he were the wind.

"Taha Aki watched with despair as Utlapa took his place as chief of the Quileutes. For a few weeks, Utlapa did nothing but make sure that everyone believed he was Taha Aki. Then the changes began—Utlapa's first edict was to forbid any warrior to enter the spirit world. He claimed that he'd had a vision of danger, but really he was afraid. He knew that Taha Aki would be waiting for the chance to tell his story. Utlapa was also afraid to enter the spirit world himself, knowing Taha Aki would quickly claim his body. So his dreams of conquest with a spirit warrior army were impossible, and he sought to content himself with ruling over the tribe. He became a burden—seeking privileges that Taha Aki had never requested, refusing to work alongside his warriors, taking a young second wife and then a third, though Taha Aki's wife lived on—something unheard of in the tribe. Taha Aki watched in helpless fury.

"Eventually, Taha Aki tried to kill his body to save the tribe from Utlapa's excesses. He brought a fierce wolf down from the mountains, but Utlapa hid behind his warriors. When the wolf killed a young man who was protecting the false chief, Taha Aki felt horrible grief. He ordered the wolf away.

"All the stories tell us that it was no easy thing to be a spirit warrior. It was more frightening than exhilarating to be freed from one's body. This is why they only used their magic in times of need. The chief's solitary journeys to keep watch were a burden and a sacrifice. Being bodiless was disorienting, uncomfortable, horrifying. Taha Aki had been away from his body for so long at this point that he was in agony. He felt he was doomed—never to cross over to the final land where his ancestors waited, stuck in this torturous nothingness forever.

The great wolf followed Taha Aki's spirit as he twisted and writhed in agony through the woods. The wolf was very large for its kind, and beautiful. Taha Aki was suddenly jealous of the magnificent animal. At least it had a body. At least it had a life. Even life as an animal would be better than this horrible empty consciousness.

"And then the great wolf changed us all. The wolf opened itself up to share with Taha Aki. Overwhelmed with gratitude, Taha Aki entered the wolf's body with relief. It was not his human body, but it was better than the void of the spirit world and the spirit of the great wolf gave him its strength and power.

As one, the man and the wolf returned to the village on the harbor. He retreated slowly from them, speaking with his eyes and trying to yelp the songs of his people. The warriors began to realize that the wolf was no ordinary animal, that there was a spirit influencing it. One older warrior, a man named Yut, decided to disobey the false chief's order and try to communicate with the wolf.

"As soon as Yut crossed to the spirit world, Taha Aki left the wolf—the animal waited tamely for his return—to speak to him. Yut gathered the truth in an instant, and welcomed his true chief home.

"At this time, Utlapa came to see if the the wolf had been defeated. When he saw Yut lying lifeless on the ground, surrounded by protective warriors, he realized what was happening. He drew his knife and raced forward to kill Yut before he could return to his body.

"'Traitor,' he screamed, and the warriors did not know what to do. The chief had forbidden spirit journeys, and it was the chief's decision how to punish those who disobeyed.

"Yut jumped back into his body, but Utlapa had his knife at his throat and a hand covering his mouth. Taha Aki's body was strong, and Yut was weak with age. Yut could not say even one word to warn the others before Utlapa silenced him forever.

"Taha Aki watched as Yut's spirit slipped away to the final lands that were barred to Taha Aki for all eternity. He felt a great rage, more powerful than anything he'd felt before. He entered the big wolf again, meaning to rip Utlapas throat out, But, as he joined the wolf, the greatest magic happened.

"Taha Aki's anger was the anger of a man. The love he had for his people and the hatred he had for their oppressor were too vast for the wolf's body, too human. The wolf shuddered, and—before the eyes of the shocked warriors and Utlapa—transformed into a man.

"The new man did not look like Taha Aki's body. He was far more glorious. He was the flesh interpretation of Taha Aki's spirit. The warriors recognized him at once, though, for they had flown with Taha Aki's spirit.

"Utlapa tried to run, but Taha Aki had the strength of the wolf in his new body. He caught the thief and crushed the spirit from him before he could jump out of the stolen body.

"The people rejoiced when they understood what had happened. Taha Aki quicly set everything right, working again with his people and giving the young wives back to their families. The only change he kept in place was the end of the spirit travels. He knew that it was too dangerous now that the idea of stealing a life was there. The spirit warriors were no more.

"From that point on, Taha Aki was more than either wolf or man. They called him Taha Aki the Great Wolf. He led the tribe for many, many years, for he did not age. When danger threatened, he would resume his wolf-self to fight or frighten the enemy. The people dwelt in peace. Taha Aki fathered many sons, and some of these found that, after they had reached the age of manhood, they, too, could transform into wolves. The wolves were all different, because they were spirit wolves and reflected the man they were inside."

"So that's why Sam is all black," Quil muttered under his breath, grinning. "Black heart, black fur."

I was so involved in the story, it was a shock to come back to the present, to the circle around the dying fire. With another shock, I realized that the circle was made up of Taha Aki's great—to however many degrees—grandsons.

The fire threw a volley of sparks into the sky, and they shivered and danced, making shapes that were almost decipherable.

"And your chocolate fur reflects what?" Sam whispered back to Quil. "Howsweetyou are?"

Billy ignored their jibes. "Some of the sons became warriors with Taha Aki, and they no longer aged. Otheres, who did not like the transformation, refused to join the pack of wolf-men. These began to age again, and the tribe discovered that the wolf-men could grow old like anyone else if they gave up their spirit wolves. Taha Aki had lived the span of three old men's lives. He had married a third wife after the deaths of the first two, and found in her his true spirit wife. Though he had loved the others, this was something else. He decided to give up his spirit wolf so that he would die when she did.

"This is how magic came to us, but it is not the end of the story…"

He looked at Old Quil Ateara, who shifted in his chair, straightening his frail shoulders. Billy took a drink from a bottle of water and wiped his forehead. Emily's pen never hesitated as she scribbled furiously on the paper.

"That was the story of the spirit warriors," Old Quil began in a thin tenor voice. "This is the story of the third wife's sacrifice.

"Many years after Taha Aki gave up his spirit wolf, when he was an old man, trouble began in the north, with the Makahs. Several young women of their tribe had disappeared, and they blamed it on the neighboring wolves, who they feared and mistrusted. The wolf-men could still read each other's thoughts while in their wolf forms, just like their ancestors had while in their spirit forms. They knew that none of their number was to blame. Taha Aki tried to pacify the Makah chief, but there was too much fear. Taha Aki did not want to have a war on his hands. He was no longer a warrior to lead his people. He charged his oldest wolf-son, Taha Wi, with finding the true culprit before hostilities began.

"Taha Wi led the five other wolves in his pack on a search through the mountains, looking for any evidence of the missing Makahs. They came across something they had never encountered before—a strange, sweet scent in the forest that burned their noses to the point of pain."

I shrank closer to Kristoff's side. I saw the corner of his mouth twitch, and his arm tightened around me.

"They did not know what creature would leave such a scent, but they followed it," Old Quil continued. His quavering voice did not have the majesty of Billy's, but it had a strange, fierce edge of urgency about it. My pulse jumped as his words came faster.

"They found faint traces of human scent, and human blood, along the trail. They were sure this was the enemy they were searching for.

"The journey took them so far north that Taha Wi sent half the pack, the younger ones, back to the harbor to report to Taha Aki.

"Taha Wi and his two brothers did not return.

"The younger brothers searched for their elders, but found only silence. Taha Aki mourned for his sons. He wished to avenge his sons' death, but he was old. He went to the Makah chief in his mourning clothes and told him everything that had happened. The Makah chief believed his friend, and tensions ended between the tribes.

"A year later, two Makah maidens disappeared from their homes on the same night. The Makah's called on the Quileute wolves at once, who found the same sweet stink all through the Makah village. The wolves went on the hunt again.

"Only one came back. He was Yaha Uta, the oldest son of Taha Aki's third wife, and the youngest in the pack. He brought something with him that had never been seen in all the days of the Quileautes—a strange, cold, stony corpse that he carried in pieces. All who were of Taha Aki's blood, even those who had never been wolves, could smell the piercing smell of the dead creature. This was the enemy of the Makahs.

"Yaha Uta described what had happened: he and his brothers had found the creature, who looked like a man but was hard as a granite rock, with the two Makah daughters. One girl was already dead, white and bloodless on the ground. The other was in the creature's arms, his mouth at her throat. She may have been alive when they came upon the hideous scene, but the creature quickly snapped her neck and tossed her lifeless body to the ground when they approached. His white lips were covered in her blood, and his eyes glowed red.

"Yaha Uta described the fierce strength and speed of the creature. One of his brothers quickly became a victim when he underestimated that strength. The creature ripped him apart like a doll. Yaha Uta and his older brother were more wary. They worked together, coming at the creature from the sides, outmaneuvering it. They had to reach the very limits of their wolf strength and speed, something that had never been tested before. The creature was hard as stone and cold as ice. They found that only their teeth could damage it. They began to rip small pieces of the creature apart while it fought them.

"But the creature learned quickly, and soon was matching their maneuvers. It got its hands on Yaha Uta's brother. Yaha Uta found an opening on the creature's throat and he lunged. His teeth tore the head off the creature, but the hands continued to mangle his brother.

"Yaha Uta ripped the creature into unrecognizable chunks, tearing pieces apart in a desperate attempt to save his brother. He was too late, but, in the end, the creature was destroyed.

"Or so they thought. Yaha Uta laid the reeking remains out to be examined by the elders. One severed hand lay beside a piece of the creature's granite arm. The two pieces touched when the elders poked them with sticks, and the hand reached out towards the arm piece, trying to reassemble itself.

"Horrified, the elders set fire to the remains. A great cloud of choking, vile smoke polluted the air. When there was nothing but ashes, they separated the ashes into many small bags and spread them far and wide—some in the ocean, some in the forest, some in the cliff caverns. Taha Aki wore one bag around his neck, so he would be warned if the creature ever tried to put himself together again."

Old Quil paused and looked at Billy. Billy pulled out a leather cord from around his neck. Hanging from the end was a small bag, blackened with age. A few people gasped. I might have been one of them.

"They called it The Cold One, the Blood Drinker, and lived in fear that it was not alone. They only had one wolf protector left, young Yaha Uta.

"They did not have long to wait. The Cold Man was not alone, he had a mate, another blood drinker, who came to the Quileutes seeking revenge.

"The stories say that the Cold Woman was the most beautiful thing human eyes had ever seen. She looked like the goddess of the dawn when she entered the village that morning; the sun was shining for once, and it glittered off her white skin and lit the golden hair that flowed down to her knees. Her face was magical in its beauty, her eyes black in her white face. Some fell to their knees to worship her.

"She asked something in a high, piercing voice, in a language no one had ever heard. The people were dumbfounded, not knowing how to answer her. There was none of Taha Aki's blood among the witnesses but one small boy. He clung to his mother and screamed that the smell was hurting his nose. One of the elders, on his way to council, heard the boy and realized what had come among them. He yelled for the people to run. She killed him first.

"There were twenty witnesses to the Cold Woman's approach. Two survived, only because she grew distracted by the blood, and paused to sate her thirst. They ran to Taha Aki, who sat in counsel with the other elders, his sons, and his third wife.

"Yaha Uta transformed into his spirit wolf as soon as he heard the news. He went to destroy the blood drinker alone. Taha Aki, his third wife, his sons, and his elders followed behind him.

"At first they could not find the creature, only the evidence of her attack. Bodies lay broken, a few drained of blood, strewn across the road where she'd appeared. Then they heard the screams and hurried to the harbor.

"A handful of the Quileautes had run to the ships for refuge. She swam after them like a shark, and broke the bow of their boat with her incredible strength. When the ship sank, she caught those trying to swim away and broke them, too.

"She saw the great wolf on the shore, and she forgot the fleeing swimmers. She swam so fast she was a blur and came, dripping and glorious, to stand before Yaha Uta. She pointed at him with one white finger and asked another incomprehensible question. Yaha Uta waited.

"It was a close fight. She was not the warrior her mate had been. But Yaha Uta was alone—there was no one to distract her fury from him.

"When Yaha Uta lost, Taha Aki screamed in defiance. He limped forward and shifted into an ancient, white-muzzled wolf. The wolf was old, but this was Taha Aki the Great Wolf, and his rage made him strong. The fight began again.

"Taha Aki's third wife had just seen her son die before her. Now her husband fought, and she had no hope that he could win. She'd heard every word the witnesses to the slaughter had told the council.

"The third wife was no magical being, with no special powers but one; courage. She grabbed a knife from the belt of one of the sons who stood beside her. They were all young sons, not yet men, and she knew they would die when their father failed.

"The third wife ran toward the Cold Woman with the dagger raised high. The Cold Woman smiled, barely distracted from her fight with the old wolf. She had no fear of the weak human woman or the knife that would not even scratch her skin, and she was about to deliver the death blow to Taha Aki.

"And then the third wife did something the Cold Woman did not expect. She fell to her knees at the blood drinker's feet and plunged the knife into her own heart.

"Blood spurted through the thid wife's fingers and splashed against the Cold Women. The blood drinker could not resist the lure of the fresh blood leaving the third wife's body. Instinctively, she turned to the dying woman, for one second entirely consumed by thirst.

"Taha Aki's teeth closed around her neck.

"That was not the end of the ight, but Taha Aki was not alone now. Watching their mother die, the two young sons felt such rage that they sprang forth as their spirit wolves, though they were not yet men. With their father, they finished the creature.

"Taha Aki never rejoined the tribe. He never changed back to a man again. He lay for one day beside the body of the third wife, growling whenever anyone tried to touch her, and then he went into the forest and never returned.

"Trouble with the cold ones was rare from that time on. Taha Aki's sons guarded the tribe until their sons were old enough to take their places. There were never more than three wolves at a time. It was enough. Occasionally a blood drinker would come through these lands, but they were taken by surprise, not expecting the wolves. Sometimes a wolf would die, but never were they decimated again like that first time. They'd learned how to fight the cold ones, and they passed the knowledge on, wolf mind to wolf mind, spirit to spirit, father to son.

"Time passed, and the descendents of Taha Aki no longer became wolves when they reached manhood. Only in a great while, if a cold one was near, would the wolves return. The cold ones always came in ones and twos, and the pack stayed small.

"A bigger coven came, and your own great-grandfathers prepared to fight them off. But the leader spoke to Ephraim Black as if he were a man, and promised not to harm the Quileutes. His strange yellow eyes gave some proof to his claim that they were not the same as other blood drinkers. The wolves were outnumbered; there was no need for the cold ones to offer a treaty when they could have won the fight. Ephraim accepted. They've stayed true to their side, though their presence does tend to draw in others.

"And their numbers have forced a larger pack than the tribe has ever seen," Old Quil said, and for one moment his black eyes, all but buried in the wrinkles of skin folded around them, seemed to rest on me. "Except, of course, in Taha Aki's time," he said, and then he sighed. "And so the sons of our tribe again carry the burden and share the sacrifice their fathers endured before them."

All was silent for a long moment. The living descendents of magic and legend stared at one another across the fire with sadness in their eyes. All but one.

"Burden," he scoffed in a low voice. "I think it's cool." Quil's full lower lip pouted out a little bit.

Across the dying fire, Olaf Clearwater—his eyes wide with adulation for the fraternity of tribal protectors—nodded his agreement.

Billy chuckled, low and long, and the magic seemed to fade into the glowing embers. Suddenly, it was just a circle of friends again. Jared flicked a small stone at Quil, and everyone laughed when it made him jump. Low conversations murmured around us, teasing and casual.

Liam Clearwater's eyes did not open. I thought I saw something sparkling on his cheek like a tear, but when I looked back a moment later it was gone.

Neither Kristoff nor I spoke. He was so still beside me, his breath so deep and even, that I thought he might be close to sleep.

My mind was a thousand years away. I was not thinking of Yaha Uta or the other wolves, or the beautiful Cold Man or Woman—I could picturethemonly too easily. No, I was thinking of someone outside the magic altogether. I was trying to imagine the face of the unnamed woman who had saved the entire tribe, the third wife.

Just a human, with no special gifts or powers. Physically weaker and slower than any of the monsters in the story. But she had been the key, the solution. She'd saved her husband, her young sons, her tribe.

I wish they'd remembered her name….

Something shook my arm.

"C'mon, babe," Kristoff said in my ear. "We're here."

I blinked, confused because the fire seemed to have disappeared. I glared into the unexpected darkness, trying to make sense of my surroundings. It took me a minute to realize that I was no longer on the cliff. Kristoff and I were alone. I was still under his arm, but I wasn't on the ground anymore.

How did I get in Kristoff's car?

"Oh, crap!" I gasped as I realized that I had fallen asleep. "How late is it? Damn it, where's my stupid phone?" I patted my pockets, frantic and coming up empty.

"Easy. It's not even midnight yet. And I already called her for you. Look—she's waiting there."

"Midnight?" I repeated stupidly, still disoriented. I stared into the darkness, and I could barely make out the shape of the Volvo, thirty yards away. I slowly reached for the door handle.

"Here," Kristoff said, and he put a rectangular object into my other hand. My phone.

"You called Elsa for me?"

My eyes were adjusted enough to see the bright gleam of Kristoff's smile. "I figured if I played nice, I'd get more time with you."

"Thanks, Kristoff," I said, touched. "Really, thank you. And thanks for inviting me tonight. That was…" Words failed me. "Wow. That was something else."

"And you didn't even stay up to watch me swallow a cow." He laughed. "No, I'm glad you liked it. It was… nice for me. Having you there."

There was a movement in the dark distance—something pale ghosting against the black trees. Pacing?

"Yeah, she's not so patient, is she?" Kristoff said, noticing my distraction. "Go ahead. But come back soon, okay?"

"Sure, Kristoff," I promised, as I leaned back into him for a goodbye hug.

"Sleep tight, babe." Kristoff breathed into my ear. "Don't worry about anything—I'll be watching out for you tonight."

I pulled away from him. "No, Kristoff. Get some rest, I'll be fine."

"Sure, sure," he said, but he sounded more patronizing than agreeing.

I sighed and cracked the car door open. Cold air washed across my legs and made me shiver.

"'Night, Kristoff. Thanks."

"'Night, Anna," he whispered as I stepped out into the darkness.

Elsa caught me at the boundary line.

"Anna" she said, relief strong in her voice; her arms wound tightly around me.

"Hi. Sorry I'm so late. I fell asleep and—"

"I know. Kristoff explained." She started toward the car, and I staggered woodenly at her side. "Are you tired? I could carry you."

"I'm fine."

"Let's get you home and in bed. Did you have a nice time?"

"Yeah—it was amazing, Elsa. Like, I can't even explain it. Kristoff's dad told us the old legends and it was like… like magic."

"You'll have to tell me about it. After you've slept."

"I won't get it right," I said, and then I yawned hugely.

Elsa chuckled. She opened my door for me, lifted me in, and buckled my seat belt around me.

Bright lights flashed on and swept across us. I waved toward Kristoff's headlights, but I didn't know if he saw the gesture.

That night—after I'd gotten past David, who didn't give me as much trouble as I'd expected because Kristoff had called him too—instead of collapsing in bed right away, I leaned out the open window while I waited for Elsa to come back. The night was surprisingly cold, almost wintry. I hadn't noticed it at all on the windy cliffs; I imagined it had less to do with the fire than it did with sitting next to Kristoff.

Icy droplets spattered against my face as the rain began to fall.

It was too dark to see much besides the black triangles of the spruces leaning and shaking with the wind. But I strained my eyes anyway, searching for other shapes in the storm. A pale silhouette, moving like a ghost through the black… or maybe the shadowy outline of an enourmous wolf… My eyes were too weak.

Then there was a movement in the night, right beside me. Elsa slid through my open window, her hands colder than the rain.

"Is Kristoff out there?" I asked, shivering as Elsa pulled me into the circle of her arm.

"Yes… somewhere. And Esme's on her way home."

I sighed. "It's so cold and wet. This is silly." I shivered again.

She chuckled. "It's only cold toyou, Anna."

It was cold in my dream that night, too, maybe because I slept in Elsa's arms. But I dreamt I was outside in the storm, the wind whipping through my hair and blinding my eyes. I stood on the rocky crescent of First Beach, trying to understand the quickly moving shapes I could only dimly see in the darkness at the shore's edge. At first, there was nothing but a flash of white and black, darting toward each other and dancing away. And then, as if the moon had suddenly broken from the clouds, I could see everything.

Royal, his hair swinging wet and golden down his back, was lunging at an enourmous wolf—its muzzle shot through with silver—that I instinctively recognized as Billy Black.

I broke into a run, but found myself moving in the frustrating slow motion of dreamers. I tried to scream to them, to tell them to stop, but my voice was stolen by the wind, and I could make no sound. I waved my arms, hoping to catch their attention. Something flashed in my hand, and I noticed for the first time that my right hand wasn't empty.

I held a long, sharp blade, ancient and silver, crusted in dried, blackened blood.

I cringed away from the knife, and my eyes snapped back to the fighting figures on the beach. As I watched, Royal's muscular frame seemed to slim out into a lean, cat-like figure and his golden hair began to twist and darken to a fiery black. Likewise, the old wolf seemed to shift into younger, more virulent form. The silver faded away into a deep, russet brown.

I was no longer watching Royal and Billy Black, but Gerda and Kristoff fighting on the beach.

My heart stopped and I watched in horror as Gerda suddenly grabbed Kristoff by the neck.

I did the only thing I could think to do, and rushing forward I raised the ancient blade high above me. Gerda's cold, thirsty eyes met mine and I brought the knife back down towards me.

My eyes snapped open to the quiet darkness of my bedroom. The first thing I realized was that I was not alone, and I turned to bury my face in Elsa's chest, knowing the sweet scent of her skin would help to chase away the nightmares.

"Did I wake you?" she whispered. There was the sound of paper, the ruffling of pages, and a faintthumpa something light fell to the wooden floor.

"No," I mumbled as her arms tightened around me. "I had a bad dream."

"Do you want to tell me about it?"

I shook my head. "Too tired. Maybe in the morning, if I remember."

I felt a silent laugh shake through her.

"In the morning," she agreed.

"What were you reading?" I muttered, not really awake at all.

"Wuthering Heights," she said.

I frowned sleepily, "I thought you didn't like that book."

"You left it out," she murmured, her soft voice lulling me towards unconsciousness. "Besides… the more time I spend with you, the more human emotions seem comprehensible to me. I'm discovering that I can sympathize with Heathcliff in ways I didn't think possible before."

"Mmm," I sighed.

She said something else, something low, but I was already asleep.

The next morning dawned pearly gray and still. Elsa asked me about my dream, but I couldn't get a handle on it. I only remembered that I was cold, and that I was glad she was there when I woke up. She kissed me, long enough to get my pulse racing, and then headed home to change and get her car.

I showered and dressed quickly, low on options. Whoever had ransacked my hamper had critically impaired my wardrobe. If It wasn't so frightening, it would be seriously annoying.

As I was about to head down for breakfast, I noticed my battered copy ofWuthering Heightslying open on the floor where Elsa had dropped it in the night, holding her place the way the damaged binding always held mine.

I picked it up curiously, trying to remember what she'd said. Something about feeling sympathy for Heathcliff, of all people. That couldn't be right; I must have dreamed that part.

Three words on the open page caught my eye, and I bent my head to read the paragraph more closely. It was Heathcliff speaking, and I knew the passage well.

And you see the distinction between our feelings: had he been in my place and I in his, though I hated him with a hatred that turned my life to gall, I never would have raised a hand against him. You may look incredulous, if you please! I never would have banished him from her society as long as she desired his. The moment her regard ceased, I would have torn his heart out, and drank his blood! But, till then—if you don't believe me, you don't know me—till then, I would have died by inches before I touched a single hair of his head!

The three words that had caught my eye were "drank his blood."

I shuddered.

Yes, surely I must have dreamt that Elsa said anything positive about Heathcliff. And this page was probably not the page she'd been reading. The book could have fallen open to any page.


	12. emmett back story

**so idk if I'll be putting emments back story in the story so I decided to put a chapter for it well guys here's Emmett's back story lol**

fter being mauled by a black bear in 1935, Emmett was rescued by Royala given a second chance at life after being turned into a vampire by Carlisle at Rosyal request. R ett were rarely separated after this, having fallen passionately in love. The pair were integral members of the Cullen family and participated eagerly in removing the numerous impediments it faced. Like all Cullens, Emmett is avegetarianvampire, and has gold eyes instead of red like vampires who drink human blood. Even considering the unstoppable physical strength of vampires, Emmett is physically the strongest in the family.

Early life

Emmett McCarty was born in 1915 and grew up in the small town of Gatlinburg, Tennessee, as part of a large Scotch-Irish family. He had what his parents considered a wild adolescence, never one to worry about consequences and preferring to gamble, drink, and womanize. Since he was bi he went for men to. However, he was a loving child of his family who always kept them supplied with game. He worked on the railroad with his older brothers in Gatlinburg, while his younger 14 year old sister would help their mother with housework.

Emmett was changed into a vampire byCarlisle Cullenin 1935, two years after Royal Hale had been changed. When Royal came across him, Emmett was being mauled by a black bear in the mountains of Tennessee while hunting. He had nearly died from the attack, but Royal saved him and carried him over a hundred miles back to Carlisle. Royal was noted as saying that it took nearly all his strength not to kill him. He also said that he brought him to Carlisle so that he, with his stronger endurance to human blood, could save Emmett, being afraid that he would kill him instead. Emmett describes this experience as "being saved by an angel who brought him to God". Many years later, Royal confessed to Anna that he saved Emmett from dying because of his innocent look, dimples, and curly hair that reminded her of her best friendVera's child,Henry, and that ever since the day he saw the baby he always wanted a child of his own just like him. While going through the change, Carlisle attempted to inject painkillers into his system to numb the pain, but the venom burned it out before it could spread.


	13. time

"I have foreseen…," Alice began in an ominous tone.

Elsa threw an elbow toward her ribs, which she neatly dodged.

"Fine," she grumbled. "Elsa is making me do this. But Ididforesee that you would be more difficult if I surprised you."

We were walking to the car after school, and I was completely clueless as to what she was talking about.

"In English?" I requested.

"Don't be a baby about this. No tantrums."

"Now I'm scared."

"So you're—I meanwe're—having a graduation party. It's no big thing. Nothing to freak out over. But I saw that youwouldfreak out if I tried to make it a surprise party"—she danced out of the way as Elsa reached over to muss her hair—"and Elsa said I had to tell you. But it's nothing. Promise."

I sighed heavily. "Is there any point in arguing?"

"None at all."

"Okay, Alice. I'll be there. And I'll suffer through every minute of it. Promise."

"That's the spirit! By the way, I love my gift. You shouldn't have."

"Alice, I didn't!"

"Oh, I know that. But you will."

I racked my brains in panic, trying to remember what I'd ever decided to get her for graduation that she might have seen.

"Amazing," Elsa muttered. "How can someone so tiny be so annoying?"

Alice laughed. "It's a talent."

"Couldn't you have waited a few more weeks to tell me about this?" I groaned. "Now I'll just be stressed that much longer."

Alice frowned at me.

"Anna," she said slowly. "Do you know what day it is?"

"Monday?"

She rolled her eyes. "Yes. It is Monday… the fourth." She grabbed my elbow, spun me halfway around, and pointed toward a big yellow poster taped to the gym door. There, in sharp black letters, was the date of graduation. Exactly one week from today.

"It's the fourth?Of June? Are you sure?"

Neither one answered. Alice just shook her head sadly, feigning disappointment, and Elsa's eyebrows lifted.

"No way! How did that happen?" I tried to count backwards in my head, but I couldn't figure out where the days had gone.

I felt like someone had kicked my legs out from under me. The weeks of stress, of worry… somehow in the middle of all my fretting over the time, my time had disappeared. My space for sorting though everything, for making plans, had vanished. I was out of time.

And I wasn't ready.

I didn't know how to do this. How to say to David and Reneé… to Kristoff… perhaps to being human.

I still wasn't positive of what I wanted, and I was out of time to decide.

In theory, trading mortality for immortality would solve so many problems. After all, I could stay with Elsa forever. And then there was the fact that I was being hunted by known and unknown parties. I'd rather not sit around, helpless and delicious, waiting for one of them to catch up with me.

In theory, that all made sense.

In practice… it meant letting go of nearly everything I knew. Of my friends, my family, of Krostoff… of being human. That future was a big, dark abyss that I couldn't know until I leaped into it.

This simple knowledge, today's date—which was so obvious that I must have been subconsciously repressing it—made the deadline I'd been nervously counting down toward feel like a date with the firing squad.

In a vague way, I was aware of Elsa holding the car door for me, of Alice chattering from the backseat, of the rain hammering against the windshield. Elsa seemed to realized I was only there in body; she didn't try to pull me out of my abstraction. Or maybe she did, and I was past noticing.

We ended up at my house, where Elsa led me to the sofa and pulled me down next to her. I stared out the window, into the liquid gray haze, and tried to find where my time had gone. Why was I panicking now? I'd known the deadline was coming. Why should it frighten me that it was here?

I don't know how long she let me stare out the window in silence. But the ran was disappearing into darkness when it was finally too much for her.

She gently put her cold hands on either side of my face and fixed her golden eyes on mine.

"Would you please tell me what you are thinking?BeforeI go mad?"

What could I say to her? That I wasn't ready? That I was a coward? I searched for words.

"Your lips are white. Talk to me, Anna."

I exhaled in a big gust. How long had I been holding my breath?

"The date took me off guard," I whispered. "That's all."

She waited, her face full of worry and skepticism.

I tried to explain. "I'm not sure what to do… what to tell David… what to say… how to…" My voice trailed off.

"This isn't about the party?"

I frowned. "No. But thanks for reminding me."

The rain was louder as read my face.

"You're not ready," she whispered.

"I don't know," I admitted reluctantly. I took a deep breath, and let it out. "But I have to be."

"You don't have to be anything."

I could feel the panic surfacing in my eyes as I mouthed the reasons. "Gerda, Jane, Caius, whoever was in my room…!"

"All the more reason to wait."

"That doesn't make much sense, Elsa."

She pressed her hands more tightly to my face and spoke with slow deliberation.

"Anna. Not one of us had a choice. You've seen what it's done… to Royal especially. We've all struggled, trying to reconcile ourselves with something we had no control over. I won't let it be that way for you. Youwillhave a choice."

"Will I?"

"You aren't going through with this because a sword is hanging over your head. We will take care of the problems, and I will take care of you," she vowed. "When we're through it, and there is nothing forcing your hand, then you can decide to join me, if you still want to. But not because you're afraid. You won't be forced into this."

"But graduation," I mumbled, still not completely appeased. "It's right around the corner. It's literally just a week away. Even if I don't…change, I'll still have to leave. Probably start running."

"It will be fine," she said in a sure voice. "You won't have to make any decisions until you're ready," she leaned forward and kissed my forehead, "and definitely not while you feel threatened."

I didn't answer. I didn't have it in me to argue; I couldn't seem to find the will.

"There." She kissed my cheek this time. "Nothing to worry about."

I laughed a shaky laugh. "Nothing but impending doom."

"Trust me."

"I do, Elsa."

She was still watching my face, waiting for me to relax.

"Can I ask you something?" I said.

"Anything."

I hesitated, biting my lip, and then asked a different question than the one I was worried about.

"What am I getting Alice for graduation?"

She snickered. "It looked like you were getting us both concern tickets—"

"That's right!" I was so relieved, I managed a small smile. "The concert in Tacoma. I saw an ad in the paper last week, and I thought it would be something you'd like, since you said it was a good CD."

"It's a great idea. Thank you."

"I hope it's not sold out."

"It's the thought that counts. I ought to know."

I sighed.

"There's something else you meant to ask," she said.

I frowned. "You're good."

"I have lots of practice reading your face. Ask me."

I closed my eyes and leaned into her, hiding my face against her chest. "You don't want me to be a vampire."

"No, I don't," she said softly, and then she waited for more. "That's not a question," she prompted after a moment.

"Well… I was worrying about…whyyou feel that way."

"Worrying?" She picked out the word with surprise.

"Would you tell me why? The whole truth, not sparing my feelings?"

She hesitated for a minute. "If I answer your question, will you thenexplainyour question?"

I nodded, my face still hidden.

She took a deep breath before she answered. "You could do so much better, Anna. I know thatyoubelieve I have a soul, but I'm not entirely convinced on that point, and to risk yours…" She shook her head slowly. "For me to allow this—to let you become what I am just so that I'll never have to lose you—is the most selfish act I can imagine. I want it more than anything, formyself. But for you, I want so much more. Giving in—it feels criminal. It's the most selfish thing I'll ever do, even if I live forever.

"If there were any way for me to become human for you—no matter what the price was, I would pay it."

I sat very still, absorbing this.

Elsa thought she wasbeing selfish.

I felt the smile slowly spread across my face.

"So… it's not that you're afraid you won't… like me as much when I'm different—when I'm not soft and warm and I don't smell the same? You really do want to keep me, no matter how I turn out?"

She exhaled sharply. "You were worried I wouldn'tlikeyou?" she demanded. Then, before I could answer, she was laughing. "Anna, for an incredibly intuitive person, you can be so obtuse!"

I knew she would think it silly, but I was relieved. If she really wanted me, even if I did have to change, maybe even if we were running for the rest of my life… I could get through it. I could appreciate her feelings, I could understand feeling selfish.

"I don't think you realize how much easier it will be for me, Anna," she said, the echo of her humor still there in her voice, "when I don't have to concentrate all the time on not killing you. Certainly, there are things I'll miss. This for one…"

She stared into my eyes as she stroked my cheek, letting her finger run down my jaw, along the line of my neck, until it rested on my collarbone. I felt the blood rush up to color my skin and she laughed gently.

"And the sound of your heart," she continued, more serious but still smiling a little. "It's the most significant sound in my world. I'm so attuned to it now, I swear I could pick it out from miles away. But neither of these things matter.This," she said, taking my face in her hands. "You. That's what I'm keeping. You'll always be my Anna, you'll just be a little more durable."

I sighed and let my eyes close in contentment, resting there in her hands.

"Now will you answer a question for me? The whole truth, not sparing my feelings?" she asked.

"Of course," I answered at once, my eyes opening wide with surprise. What would she want to know?

She spoke the words slowly. "You don't want to marry me."

My heart stopped, and then broke into a sprint. A cold sweat dewed on the back of my neck and my hands turned to ice.

She waited, watching and listening to my reaction.

"That's not a question," I finally whispered.

She looked down, her lashes casting long shadows across her cheekbones, and dropped her hands from my face to pick up my frozen left hand. She played with my fingers while she spoke.

"I was worrying about why you felt that way."

I tried to swallow. "That's not a question, either," I whispered.

"Please, Anna?"

"The truth?" I asked, only mouthing the words.

"Of course. I can take it, whatever it is."

I took a deep breath. "You're going to laugh at me."

Her eyes flashed up to mine, shocked. "Laugh? I cannot imagine that."

"You'll see," I muttered, and then I sighed. My face went white to scarlet in a sudden blaze of chagrin. "Okay, fine! I'm sure this will sound like some big joke to you, but really! It's just so… so… somuch!" I confessed, and I hid my face against her chest again.

There was a brief pause.

"I'm not following you."

I tilted my head back and glared at her, embarrassment making me talk too much and too fast.

"I'm notthat girl, Elsa. I never imagined I would ever bemarried, let alone right out of high school. Even if we didn't have to worry about judgement or backlash, people just don't get married at eighteen! Not smart people, not responsible, mature people! I wasn't going to be that girl! That's not who I am… I'm not Reneé and David… They loved each other so much and somehow being married ruined everything…" I trailed off, losing steam, and feeling the threat of tears in my eyes.

Elsa's face was impossible to read as thought through my answer.

"That's why?" She finally asked.

I blinked. "Yes."

"It's not that you were… more eager for immortality itself for just me?"

And then, though I'd predicted thatshewould laugh, I was suddenly the one having hysterics.

"Elsa!" I gasped out between paroxysms of giggles. "And here… I always… thought that… you were… so much…smarterthan that!"

She took me in het arms, and I could feel that she was laughing with me.

"Elsa," I said, managing to speak more clearly with little effort, "I don't even know if I want to be immortal. And if I do, there's no point to forever without you. I wouldn't want it unless I had you with me."

"Well, that's a relief," she said.

"Still… it doesn't change anything."

"It's nice to understand, though. And I do understand your perspective, Anna, truly I do. It's only natural that you'd have an aversion to marriage considering your parents. I see that now." She ran her hand through my hair. "But may I ask that you just listen and try to consider mine?"

I'd sobered up by then, so I nodded warily.

Her liquid gold eyes turned hypnotic as they held mine.

"You see, Anna,Iwas always that girl. In my world, I was already a woman. I wasn't looking for love—no, I was far too eager to be a soldier for that; I thought of nothing but the idealized glory of the war that they were selling prospective draftees then—but if I had found…" She paused, cocking her head to the side. "I was going to say if I had foundsomeone, but that won't do. If I had foundyou, there isn't a doubt in my mind how I would have proceeded. Even then. In that time. I wasthat girl, who would have—as soon as I discovered that you were what I was looking for—gotten down on one knee and endeavored to secure your hand. I would have wanted you for eternity, even when the word didn't have quite the same connotations."

She smiled her crooked smile at me.

I stared at her with my eyes frozen wide.

"Breathe, Anna," she reminded me, smiling.

I breathed.

"Can you see my side, Anna, even a little bit?"

And for one second, I could. I saw myself in a fine dark blue dress and my hair slicked back in a ponytail on my head. I saw Elsa looking dashing in a light ice dress with a bouquet of wildfowers in her hand, sitting beside me on a porch swing.

I shook my head and swallowed. I was just havingAnne of Green Gablesflashbacks.

"You do make a compelling argument," I sighed in a shaky voice, still reeling from the picture Elsa had painted in mind. "It's just… scary for me, Elsa."

"More so than becoming a vampire?" She smiled gently. "More so than running for our lives?"

"Maybe not that much," I conceded. "It's just a lot, I guess."

"A lot for you to think about," she laughed, "and I have no opposition to you taking your time."

I couldn't help but smile just a little, as I slid into Elsa's strong, marble arms.

But time continued to move too fast.

That night flew by dreamlessly, and then it was morning and graduation was staring me in the face. I had a pile of studying to do for my finals that I knew I wouldn't get halfway through in the few days I had left.

When I came down for breakfast, David was already gone. He'd left the paper on the table, and that reminded me that I had some shopping to do. I hoped the ad for the concert was still running; I needed the phone number to get the stupid tickets. It didn't seem like much of a gift now that all the surprise was gone. Of course, trying to surprise Alice wasn't the brightest plan to begin with.

I meant to flip right back to the entertainment section, but the thick black headline caught my attention. I felt a thrill of fear as I leaned closer to read the front-page story.

SEATTLE TERRORIZED BY SLAYINGS

It's been less than a decade since the city of Seattle was the hunting ground for the most prolific serial killer in U.S. history. Gary Ridgeway, the Green River Killer, was convicted of the murders of 48 women.

And now a beleaguered Seattle must face the possibility that it could be harboring an even more horrifying monster at this very moment.

The police are calling the recent rash of homicides and disappearances the work of a serial killer. Not yet, at least. They are reluctant to believe so much carnage could be the work of one individual. This killer—if, in fact, it is one person—would then be responsible for 39 linked homicides and disappearances within the last three months alone. In comparison, Ridgeway's 48-count murder spree was scattered over a 21-year period. If these deaths can be linked to one man, then this is the most violent rampage of serial murder in American history.

The police are learning instead toward the theory that gang activity is involved. This theory is supported by the sheer number of victims, and by the fact that there seems to be no pattern in the choice of victims.

From Jack the Ripper to Ted Bundy, the targets of serial killings are usually connected by similarities in age, gender, race, or a combination of the three. The victims of this crime wave range in age from 15-year-old honor student Amanda Reed, to 67-year-old retired postman Omar Jenks. The linked deaths include a nearly even 18 women and 21 men. The victims are racially diverse: Caucasians, African Americans, Hispanic and Asians.

The selection appears random. The motive seems to be killing for no other reason than to kill.

So why even consider the idea of a serial killer?

There are enough similarities in the modus operandi to rule out unrelated crimes. Every victim discovered has been burned to the extent that dental records were necessary for identification. The use of some kind of accelerant, like gasoline or alcohol, seems to be indicated in the conflagrations; however, no traces of any accelerant have yet been found. All of the bodies have been carelessly dumped with no attempt at concealment.

More gruesome yet, most of the remains show evidence of brutal violence — bones crushed and snapped by some kind of tremendous pressure — which medical examiners believe occurred before the time of death, though these conclusions are difficult to be sure of, considering the state of the evidence.

Another similarity that points to the possibility of a serial: every crime is perfectly clean of evidence, aside from the remains themselves. Not a fingerprint, not a tire tread mark nor a foreign hair is left behind. There have been no sightings of any suspect in the disappearances.

Then there are the disappearances themselves — hardly low profile by any means. None of the victims are what could be viewed as easy targets. None are runaways or the homeless, who vanish so easily and are seldom reported missing. Victims have vanished from their homes, from a fourth-story apartment, from a health club, from a wedding reception. Perhaps the most astounding: 30-year-old amateur boxer Robert Walsh entered a movie theater with a date; a few minutes into the movie, the woman realized that he was not in his seat. His body was found only three hours later when fire fighters were called to the scene of a burning trash Dumpster, twenty miles away.

Another pattern is present in the slayings: all of the victims disappeared at night.

And the most alarming pattern? Acceleration. Six of the homicides were committed in the first month, 11 in the second. Twenty-two have occurred in the last 10 days alone. And the police are no closer to finding the responsible party than they were after the first charred body was discovered.

The evidence is conflicting, the pieces horrifying. A vicious new gang or a wildly active serial killer? Or something else the police haven't yet conceived of?

Only one conclusion is indisputable: something hideous is stalking Seattle.

It took me three tries to read the last sentence, and I realized the problem was my shaking hands.

"Anna?"

Focused as I was, Elsa's voice, though quiet and not totally unexpected, made me gasp and whirl.

She was leaning in the doorway, her eyebrows pulled together. Then she was suddenly at my side, taking my hand.

"Did I startle you? I'm sorry. I did knock…"

"No, no," I said quickly. "Have you seen this?" I pointed to the paper.

A frown creased her forehead.

"I hadn't seen today's news yet. But I knew it was getting worse. We're going to have to do something… quickly."

I didn't like that. I hated any of them taking chances, and whatever or whoever was in Seattle was truly beginning to frighten me. But the idea of the Volturi coming was just as scary.

"What does Alice say?"

"That's the problem." Her frown hardened. "She can't see anything… though we've made up our minds half a dozen times to check it out. She's starting to lose confidence. She feels like she's missing too much these days, that something's wrong. That maybe her vision is slipping away."

My eyes were wide. "Can that happen?"

"Who knows? No one's ever done a study… but I truly doubt it. These things tend to intensify over time. Look at Aro and Jane."

"Then what's wrong?"

"Self-fulfilling prophecy, I think. We keep waiting for Alice to see something so we can go… and she doesn't see anything because we won't really go until she does. So she can't see us there. Maybe we'll have to do it blind."

I shuddered. "No."

"Did you have a strong desire to attend class today? We're only a couple days from finals; they won't be giving us anything new."

"I think I can live without school for a day. What are we doing?"

"I want to talk to Jasper."

Jasper, again. It was strange. In the Cullen family, Jasper was always a little on the fringe, part of things but never the center of them. It was my unspoken assumption that he was only there for Alice. I had the sense that he would follow Alice anywhere, but that this lifestyle was not his first choice. The fact that he was less committed to it than the others was probably why he had more difficulty keeping it up.

At any rate, I'd never seen Elsa feel dependent on Jasper. I wondered again what she'd meant about Jasper's expertise. I really didn't know much about Jasper's history, just that he had come from somewhere in the south before Alice found him. For some reason, Elsa had always shied away from any questions about her newest brother. And I'd always been too intimidated by the tall, blond vampire who looked like a brooding movie star to ask him outright.

When we got to the house, we found Carlisle, Esme, and Jasper watching the news intently, though the sound was so low that it was unintelligible to me. Alice was perched on the bottom step of the grand staircase, her face in her hands and her expression discouraged. As we walked in, Emmett ambled through the kitchen door, seeming perfectly at ease. Nothing ever bothered Emmett.

"Hey, Elsa. Hey, Anna. Ditching?" He grinned at me.

"We both are," Elsa reminded him.

Emmett laughed. "Yes, but it'sherfirst time though high school. She might miss something."

Elsa rolled her eyes, but otherwise ignored her favorite brother. She tossed the paper to Carlisle.

"Did you see that they're considering a serial killer now?" she asked.

Carlisle sighed. "They've had two specialists debating that possibility on CNN all morning."

"We can't let this go on."

"Let's go now," Emmett said with sudden enthusiasm. "I'm dead bored."

A hiss echoed down the stairways from upstairs.

"He's such a pessimist," Emmett muttered to himself.

Elsa agreed with Emmett. "We'll have to go sometime."

Royal appeared at the top of the stairs and descended slowly. His face was smooth, expressionless.

Carlisle was shaking his head. "I'm concerned. We've never involved ourselves in this kind of thing before. It's not our business. We aren't the Volturi."

"I don't want the Volturi to have to come here," Elsa said. "It gives us so much less reaction time."

"And all those innocent humans in Seattle," Esme murmured. "It's not right to let them die this way."

"I know," Carlisle sighed.

"Oh," Elsa said sharply, turning her head slightly to look at Jasper. "I didn't think of that. I see. You're right, that has to be it. Well, that changes everything."

I wasn't the only one who stared at him in confusion, but I might have been the only one who didn't look slightly annoyed.

"I think you'd better explain to the others," Elsa said to Jasper. "What could be the purpose of this?" Elsa started to pace, staring at the floor, lost in thought.

I hadn't seen her get up, but Alice was there beside me. "What is she rambling about?" she asked Jasper. "What are you thinking?"

Jasper didn't seem to enjoy the spotlight. He hesitated, reading every face in the circle—for everyone had moved in to hear what he would say—and then his eyes paused on my face.

"You're confused," he said to me, his deep voice very quiet.

There was no question in his assumption. Jasper knew what I was feeling, what everyone was feeling.

"We're all confused," Emmett grumbled.

"You can afford the time to be patient," Jasper told her. "Anna should understand this, too. She's one of us now."

His words took me by surprise. As little as I'd had to do with Jasper, especially since my last birthday when he'd tried to kill me, I hadn't realized that he thought of me that way.

"How much do you know about me, Anna?" Jasper asked.

Jasper stared at Elsa, who looked up to meet his gaze.

"No," Elsa answered his thought. "I'm sure you can understand why I haven't told her that story. But I suppose she needs to hear it now."

Jasper nodded thoughtfully, and then started to roll up the arm of his ivory sweater.

I watched, curious and confused, trying to figure out what he was doing. He held his wrist under the edge of the lampshade beside him, close to the light of the naked bulb, and traced his finger across a raised crescent mark on the pale skin.

It took me a minute to understand why the shape looked strangely familiar.

"Oh," I breathed as realization hit. "Jasper, you have a scar exactly like mine."

I held out my hand, the silvery crescent more prominent against my cream skin than against his alabaster.

Jasper smiled faintly. "I have a lot of scars like yours, Anna."

Jaspers face was unreadable as he pushed the sleeve of his thin sweater higher up his arm. At first my eyes could not make sense of the texture that was layered thickly across his skin. Curved half-moons crisscrossed in a feathery pattern that was only visible, white on white as it was, because the bright glow of the lamp beside him threw the slightly raised design into relief, with shallow shadows outlining the shapes. And then I grasped that the pattern was made of individual crescents like the one on his wrist… the one on my hand.

I looked back at my own small, solitary scar—and remembered how I'd received it. I stared at the shape of Hans's teeth, embossed forever on my skin.

And then I gasped, staring up at him. "Jasper, whathappenedto you?"


	14. newborn

"The same thing that happened to your hand," Jasper answered in a quiet voice. "Repeated a thousand times." He laughed a little ruefully and brushed at his arm. "Our venom is the only thing that leaves a scar."

"Why?"I breathed in horror, feeling rude but unable to stop staring at his subtly ravaged skin.

"I didn't have quite the same… upbringing as my adopted siblings here. My beginning was something else entirely." His voice turned hard as he finished.

I gaped at him, appalled.

"Before I tell you my story," Jasper said, "you must understand that there are places inourworld, Anna, where the life span of the never-aging is measured in weeks, and not centuries."

The others had heard this before. Carlisle and Emmett turned their attention to the TV again. Alice moved silently to sit at Esme's feet. But Elsa was just as absorbed as I was; I could feel her eyes on my face, reading every flicker of emotion.

"To really understand why, you have to look at the world from a different perspective. You have to imagine the way it looks to the powerful, the greedy… the perpetually thirsty.

"You see, there are places in this world that are more desirable to us than others. Places where we can be less restrained, and still avoid detection.

"Picture, for instance, a map of the western hemisphere. Picture on it every human life as a small red dot. The thicker the red, the more easily we—well, those who existed this way—can feed without attracting notice."

I shuddered at the image in my head, at the wordfeed. But Jasper wasn't worried about frightening me, not overprotective like Elsa always was. He went on without a pause.

"Not that the covens in the South care much for what the humans notice or do not. It's the Volturi that keep them in check. They are the only ones the southern covens fear. If not for the Volturi, the rest of us would be quickly exposed."

I frowned at the way he pronounced the name—with respect, almost gratitude. The idea of the Volturi as the good guys in any sense was hard to accept.

"The North is, by comparison, very civilized. Mostly we are nomads here who enjoy the day as well as the night, who allow humans to interact with us unsuspectingly—anonymity is important to us all.

"It's a different world in the South. The immortals there come out only at night. They spend the day plotting their next move, or anticipating their enemy's. Because it has been war in the South, constant war for centuries, with never one moment of truce. The covens there barely note the existence of humans, except as soldiers notice a herd of cows by the wayside—food for the taking. They only hide from the notice of the herd because of the Volturi."

"But what are they fighting for?" I asked.

Jasper smiled. "Remember the map with the red dots?"

He waited, so I nodded.

"They fight for control of the thickest red.

"You see, it occurred to someone once that, if he were the only vampire in, let's say Mexico City, well then, he could feed every night, twice, three times, and no one would ever notice. He plotted ways to get rid of the competition.

"Others had the same idea. Some came up with more effective tactics than others.

"But themosteffective tactic was invented by a fairly young vampire named Benito. The first anyone ever heard of him, he came down from somewhere north of Dallas and massacred the two small covens that shared the area near Houston. Two nights later, he took on the much stronger clan of allies that claimed Monterrey in northern Mexico. Again, he won."

"How did he win?" I asked with curiosity.

"Benito had created an army of newborn vampires. He was the first one to think of it, and, in the beginning, he was unstoppable. Very young vampires are volatile, wild, and almost impossible to control. One newborn can be reasoned with, taught to restrain himself, but ten, fifteen together are a nightmare. They'll turn on each other as easily as on the enemy you point them at. Benito had to keep making more as they fought amongst themselves, and as the covens he decimated took more than half his force down before they lost.

"You see, though newborns are dangerous, they are still possible to defeat if you know what you're doing. They're incredibly powerful physically, for the first year or so, and if they're allowed to bring strength to bear they can crush an older vampire with ease. But they are slaves to their instincts, and thus predictable. Usually, they have no skill fighting, only muscle and ferocity. And in this case, overwhelming numbers.

"The vampires in southern Mexico realized what was coming for them, and they did the only thing they could think of to counteract Benito. They made armies of their own…

"All hell broke loose—and I mean that more literally than you can possibly imagine. We immortals have our histories, too, and this particular war will never be forgotten. Of course, it was not a good time to be human in Mexico, either."

I shuddered.

"When the body count reached epidemic proportions—in fact, your histories blame a disease for the population slump—the Volturi finally stepped in. The entire guard came together and sought out every newborn in the bottom half of North America. Benito was entrenched in Puebla, building his army as quickly as he could in order to take on the prize—Mexico City. The Volturi started with him, and then moved on to the rest.

"Anyone who was found with the newborns was executed immediately, and, since everyone was trying to protect themselves from Benito, Mexico was emptied of vampire for a time.

"The Volturi were cleaning house for almost a year. This was another chapter of our history that will always be remembered, though there were very few witnesses left to speak of what it was like. I spoke to someone once who had, from a distance, watched what happened when they visited Culiacán."

Jasper shuddered. I realized that I had never before seen him either afraid or horrified. This was a first.

"It was enough that the fever for conquest did not spread from the South. The rest of the world stayed sane. We owe the Volturi for our present way of life.

"But when the Volturi went back to Italy, the survivors were quick to stake their claims in the South.

"It didn't take long before covens began to dispute again. There was a lot of bad blood, if you'll forgive the expression. Vendettas abounded. The idea of new borns was already there, and some were not able to resist. However, the Volturi had not been forgotten, and the southern covens were more careful this time. The newborns were selected from the human pool with more care, and given more training. They were used circumspectly, and humans remained, for the most part, oblivious. Their creators gave the Volturi no reason to return.

"The wars resumed, but on a smaller scale. Every now and then, someone would go too far, speculation would begin in the human newspapers, and the Volturi would return and clean out the city. But they let the others, the careful ones, continue…"

Jasper was staring off into space.

"That's how you were changed." My realization was a whisper.

"Yes," he agreed. "When I was human, I lived in Houston, Texas. I was almost seventeen years old when I joined the Confederate Army in 1861. I lied to the recruiters and told them I was twenty. I was tall enough to get away with it.

"My military career was short-lived, but very promising. People always… liked me, listened to what I had to say. My father said it was charisma. Of course, now I know it was probably something more. But, whatever the reason, I was promoted quickly through the ranks, over older, more experienced men. The Confederate Army was new and scrambling to organize itself, so that provided opportunities, as well. By the first battle of Galveston—well, it was more of a skirmish, really—I was the youngest major in Texas, not even acknowledging my real age.

"I was placed in charge of evacuating the woman and children from the city when the Union's mortar boats reached the harbor. It took a day to prepare them, and then I left with the first column of civilians to convey them to Houston.

"I remember that one night very clearly.

"We reached the city after dark. I stayed only long enough to make sure the entire party was safely situated. As soon as that was done, I got myself a fresh horse, and I headed back to Galveston. There wasn't time to rest.

"Just a mile outside the city, I found three women on foot. I assumed they were stragglers and dismounted at once to offer them my aid. But, when I could see their faces in the dim light of the moon, I was stunned into silence. They were, without question, the three most beautiful women I had ever seen.

"They had such pale skin, I remember marveling at it. Even the little black-haired girl, whose features were clearly Mexican, was porcelain in the moonlight. They seemed young, all of them, still young enough to be called girls. I knew they were not lost members of our party. I would have remembered seeing these three.

"'He's speechless,' the tallest girl said in a lovely, delicate voice — it was like wind chimes. She had fair hair, and her skin was snow white.

"The other was blonder still, her skin just as chalky. Her face was like an angel's. She leaned toward me with half-closed eyes and inhaled deeply.

"'Mmm,' she sighed. 'Lovely.'

"The small one, the tiny brunette, put her hand on the girl's arm and spoke quickly. Her voice was too soft and musical to be sharp, but that seemed to be the way she intended it.

"'Concentrate, Nettie,' she said.

"I'd always had a good sense of how people related to each other, and it was immediately clear that the brunette was somehow in charge of the others. If they'd been military, I would have said that she outranked them.

"'He looks right — young, strong, an officer…. ' The brunette paused, and I tried unsuccessfully to speak. 'And there's something more… do you sense it?' she asked the other two. 'He's… compelling.'

"'Oh, yes,' Nettie quickly agreed, leaning toward me again.

"'Patience,' the brunette cautioned her. 'I want to keep this one.'

"Nettie frowned; she seemed annoyed.

"'You'd better do it, Maria,' the taller blonde spoke again. 'If he's important to you. I kill them twice as often as I keep them.'

"'Yes, I'll do it,' Maria agreed. 'I really do like this one. Take Nettie away, will you? I don't want to have to protect my back while I'm trying to focus.'

"My hair was standing up on the back of my neck, though I didn't understand the meaning of anything the beautiful creatures were saying. My instincts told me that there was danger, that the angel had meant it when she spoke of killing, but my judgment overruled my instincts. I had not been taught to fear women, but to protect them.

"'Let's hunt,' Nettie agreed enthusiastically, reaching for the tall girl's hand. They wheeled — they were so graceful! — and sprinted toward the city. They seemed to almost take flight, they were so fast — their white dresses blew out behind them like wings. I blinked in amazement, and they were gone.

"I turned to stare at Maria, who was watching me curiously.

"I'd never been superstitious in my life. Until that second, I'd never believed in ghosts or any other such nonsense. Suddenly, I was unsure.

"'What is your name, soldier?' Maria asked me.

"'Major Jasper Whitlock, ma'am,' I stammered, unable to be impolite to a female, even if she was a ghost.

"'I truly hope you survive, Jasper,' she said in her gentle voice. 'I have a good feeling about you.'

"She took a step closer, and inclined her head as if she were going to kiss me. I stood frozen in place, though my instincts were screaming at me to run."

Jasper paused, his face thoughtful. "A few days later," he finally said, and I wasn't sure if he had edited his story for my sake or because he was responding to the tension that even I could feel exuding from Elsa, "I was introduced to my new life.

"Their names were Maria, Nettie, and Lucy. They hadn't been together long — Maria had rounded up the other two — all three were survivors of recently lost battles. Theirs was a partnership of convenience.

Maria wanted revenge, and she wanted her territories back. The others were eager to increase their . . . herd lands, I suppose you could say. They were putting together an army, and going about it more carefully than was usual. It was Maria's idea. She wanted a superior army, so she sought out specific humans who had potential. Then she gave us much more attention, more training than anyone else had bothered with. She taught us to fight, and she taught us to be invisible to the humans. When we did well, we were rewarded…"

He paused, editing again.

"She was in a hurry, though. Maria knew that the massive strength of the newborn began to wane around the year mark, and she wanted to act while we were strong.

"There were six of us when I joined Maria's band. She added four more within a fortnight. We were all male — Maria wanted soldiers — and that made it slightly more difficult to keep from fighting amongst ourselves. I fought my first battles against my new comrades in arms. I was quicker than the others, better at combat. Maria was pleased with me, though put out that she had to keep replacing the ones I destroyed. I was rewarded often, and that made me stronger.

"Maria was a good judge of character. She decided to put me in charge of the others — as if I were being promoted. It suited my nature exactly. The casualties went down dramatically, and our numbers swelled to hover around twenty.

"This was considerable for the cautious times we lived in. My ability, as yet undefined, to control the emotional atmosphere around me was vitally effective. We soon began to work together in a way that newborn vampires had never cooperated before. Even Maria, Nettie, and Lucy were able to work together more easily.

"Maria grew quite fond of me — she began to depend upon me. And, in some ways, I worshipped the ground she walked on. I had no idea that any other life was possible. Maria told us this was the way things were, and we believed.

"She asked me to tell her when my brothers and I were ready to fight, and I was eager to prove myself. I pulled together an army of twenty-three in the end — twenty-three unbelievably strong new vampires, organized and skilled as no others before. Maria was ecstatic.

"We crept down toward Monterrey, her former home, and she unleashed us on her enemies. They had only nine newborns at the time, and a pair of older vampires controlling them. We took them down more easily than Maria could believe, losing only four in the process. It was an unheard-of margin of victory.

"And we were well trained. We did it without attracting notice. The city changed hands without any human being aware.

"Success made Maria greedy. It wasn't long before she began to eye other cities. That first year, she extended her control to cover most of Texas and northern Mexico. Then the others came from the South to dislodge her."

He brushed two fingers along the faint pattern of scars on his arm.

"The fighting was intense. Many began to worry that the Volturi would return. Of the original twenty-three, I was the only one to survive the first eighteen months. We both won and lost. Nettie and Lucy turned on Maria eventually — but that one we won.

"Maria and I were able to hold on to Monterrey. It quieted a little, though the wars continued. The idea of conquest was dying out; it was mostly vengeance and feuding now. So many had lost their partners, and that is something our kind does not forgive…

"Maria and I always kept a dozen or so newborns ready. They meant little to us — they were pawns, they were disposable. When they outgrew their usefulness, wediddispose of them. My life continued in the same violent pattern and the years passed. I was sick of it all for a very long time before anything changed…

"Decades later, I developed a friendship with a newborn who'd remained useful and survived his first three years, against the odds. His name was Peter. I liked Peter; he was . . . civilized — I suppose that's the right word. He didn't enjoy the fight, though he was good at it.

"He was assigned to deal with the newborns — babysit them, you could say. It was a full-time job.

"And then it was time to purge again. The newborns were outgrowing their strength; they were due to be replaced. Peter was supposed to help me dispose of them. We took them aside individually, you see, one by one . . . It was always a very long night. This time, he tried to convince me that a few had potential, but Maria had instructed that we get rid of them all. I told him no.

"We were about halfway through, and I could feel that it was taking a great toll on Peter. I was trying to decide whether or not I should send him away and finish up myself as I called out the next victim. To my surprise, he was suddenly angry, furious. I braced for whatever his mood might foreshadow — he was a good fighter, but he was never a match for me.

"The newborn I'd summoned was a female, just past her year mark. Her name was Charlotte. His feelings changed when she came into view; they gave him away. He yelled for her to run, and he bolted after her. I could have pursued them, but I didn't. I felt . . . averse to destroying him.

"Maria was irritated with me for that…

"Five years later, Peter snuck back for me. He picked a good day to arrive.

"Maria was mystified by my ever-deteriorating frame of mind. She'd never felt a moment's depression, and I wondered why I was different. I began to notice a change in her emotions when she was near me — sometimes there was fear . . . and malice — the same feelings that had given me advance warning when Nettie and Lucy struck. I was preparing myself to destroy my only ally, the core of my existence, when Peter returned.

"Peter told me about his new life with Charlotte, told me about options I'd never dreamed I had. In five years, they'd never had a fight, though they'd met many others in the north. Others who could co-exist without the constant mayhem.

"In one conversation, he had me convinced. I was ready to go, and somewhat relieved I wouldn't have to kill Maria. I'd been her companion for as many years as Carlisle and Elsa have been together, yet the bond between us was nowhere near as strong. When you live for the fight, for the blood, the relationships you form are tenuous and easily broken. I walked away without a backward glance.

"I traveled with Peter and Charlotte for a few years, getting the feel of this new, more peaceful world. But the depression didn't fade. I didn't understand what was wrong with me, until Peter noticed that it was always worse after I'd hunted.

"I contemplated that. In so many years of slaughter and carnage, I'd lost nearly all of my humanity. I was undeniably a nightmare, a monster of the grisliest kind. Yet each time I found another human victim, I would feel a faint prick of remembrance for that other life. Watching their eyes widen in wonder at my beauty, I could see Maria and the others in my head, what they had looked like to me the last night that I was Jasper Whitlock. It was stronger for me — this borrowed memory — than it was for anyone else, because I couldfeeleverything my prey was feeling. And I lived their emotions as I killed them.

"You've experienced the way I can manipulate the emotions around myself, Anna, but I wonder if you realize how the feelings in a room affectme. I live every day in a climate of emotion. For the first century of my life, I lived in a world of bloodthirsty vengeance. Hate was my constant companion. It eased some when I left Maria, but I still had to feel the horror and fear of my prey.

"It began to be too much.

"The depression got worse, and I wandered away from Peter and Charlotte. Civilized as they were, they didn't feel the same aversion I was beginning to feel. They only wanted peace from the fight. I was so wearied by killing — killing anyone, even mere humans.

"Yet I had to keep killing. What choice did I have? I tried to kill less often, but I would get too thirsty and I would give in. After a century of instant gratification, I found self-discipline… challenging. I still haven't perfected that."

Jasper was lost in the story, as was I. It surprised me when his desolate expression smoothed into a peaceful smile.

"I was in Philadelphia. There was a storm, and I was out during the day — something I was not completely comfortable with yet. I knew standing in the rain would attract attention, so I ducked into a little half-empty diner. My eyes were dark enough that no one would notice them, though this meant I was thirsty, and that worried me a little.

"She was there — expecting me, naturally." He chuckled once. "She hopped down from the high stool at the counter as soon as I walked in and came directly toward me.

"It shocked me. I was not sure if she meant to attack. That's the only interpretation of her behavior my past had to offer. But she was smiling. And the emotions that were emanating from her were like nothing I'd ever felt before.

"'You've kept me waiting a long time,' she said."

I didn't realize Alice had come to stand behind me again.

"And you ducked your head, like a good Southern gentleman, and said, 'I'm sorry, ma'am.'" Alice laughed at the memory.

Jasper smiled down at her. "You held out your hand, and I took it without stopping to make sense of what I was doing. For the first time in almost a century, I felt hope."

Jasper took Alice's hand as he spoke.

Alice grinned. "I was just relieved. I thought you were never going to show up."

Thy smiled at each other for a long moment, and then Jasper looked back to me, the soft expression lingering.

"Alice told me what she'd seen of Carlisle and his family. I could hardly believe that such an existence was possible. But Alice made me optimistic. So we went to find them."

"Scared the hell of them, too," Elsa said, rolling her eyes at Jasper before turning to me to explain. "Emmett and I were away hunting. Jasper shows up, covered in battle scars, towing this little freak"—she nudged Alice playfully—"who greets them all by name, knows everything about them, and wants to know which room she can move into."

Alice and Jasper laughed in harmony, soprano and bass.

"When I got home, all my things were in the garage," Elsa continued.

Alice shrugged. "Your room had the best view."

They all laughed together now.

"That's a nice story," I said.

Three pairs of eyes questioned my sanity.

"I mean the last part," I defended myself. "The happy ending with Alice."

"Alice has made all the difference," Jasper agreed. "This is a climate I enjoy."

But the momentary pause in the stress couldn't last.

"An army," Alice whispered. "Why didn't you tell me?"

The others were intent again, their eyes locked on Jasper's face.

"I thought I must be interpreting the signs incorrectly. Because where is the motive? Why would someone create an army in Seattle? There is no history there, no vendetta. It makes no sense from a conquest standpoint, either; no one claims it. Nomads pass through, but there's no one tofightfor it. No one to defend it from.

"But I've seen this before, and there's no other explanation. There is an army of newborn vampires in Seattle. Fewer than twenty, I'd guess. The difficult part is that they are totally untrained. Whoever made them just set them loose. It will only get worse, and it won't be much longer till the Volturi step in. Actually, I'm surprised they've let this go on so long."

"What can we do?" Carlisle asked.

"If we want to avoid the Volturi's involvement, we will have to destroy the newborns, and we will have to do it very soon." Jasper's face was hard. Knowing his story now, I could guess how his evaluation must disturb him. "I can teach you how. It won't be easy in the city. The young ones aren't concerned about secrecy, but we will have to be. It will limit us in ways that they are not. Maybe we can lure them out."

"Maybe we won't have to." Elsa's voice was bleak. "Does it occur to anyone else that the only possible threat in the area that would call for the creation of an army is… us?"

Jasper's eyes narrowed; Carlisle's widened, shocked.

"Taras's family is also near," Esme said slowly, unwilling to accept Elsa's words.

"The newborns aren't ravaging Anchorage, Esme. I think we have to consider the idea thatweare the targets."

"They're not coming after us," Alice insisted, and then paused. "Or… they don'tknowthat they are. Not yet."

"What is that?" Elsa asked, curious and tense. "What are you remembering?"

"Flickers," Alice said. "I can't see a clear picture when I try to see what's going on, nothing concrete. But I've been getting these strange flashes. Not enough to make sense of. It's as if someone's changing their mind, moving from one course of action to another so quickly that I can't get a good view…"

"Indecision?" Jasper asked in disbelief.

"A last minute decision…" I muttered to myself, thinking of my escape from Alice to go see Kristoff down in La Push, or my escape from Alice and Jasper back in Phoenix. "Last minute decisions that Alice can't see, that keep the future changing so shecan'tsee."

"Anba is correct," Elsa growled. "It's not indecision. It'sknowledge.Someone who knows you can't see anything until the decision is made. Someone who is hiding from us. Playing with the holes in your vision."

"Who would know that?" Alice whispered.

Elsa's eyes were hard as ice. "Aro knows you as well as you know yourself."

"But I would see if they'd decided to come…"

"Unless they didn't want to get their hands dirty."

"A favor," Royal suggested, speaking for the first time. "Someone in the South… someone who already had trouble with the rules. Someone who should have been destroyed is offered a second chance—if they take care of this one small problem… that would explain the Volturi's sluggish response."

"Why?" Carlisle asked, still shocked. "There's no reason for the Volturi—"

"It was there," Elsa disagreed quietly. "I'm surprised it's come to this so soon, because the other thoughts were stronger. In Aro's head he saw me at his one side and Alice at his other. The present and the future, virtual omniscience. The power of the idea intoxicated him. I would have thought it would take him much longer to give up on that plan—he wanted it too much. But there was also the thought of you, Carlisle, of our family, growing strong and larger. The jealousy and the fear: you have… notmorethan he had, but still, the things that he wanted. He tried not to think about it, but he couldn't hide it completely. The idea of rooting out the competition was there; besides their own, ours is the largest coven they've ever found…"

I stared at her face in horror. She'd never told me this, but I guessed I knew why. I could see it in my head now, Aro's dream. Elsa and Alice in black, flowing robes, drifting along at Aro's side with their eyes cold and blood-red…

Carlisle interrupted my waking nightmare. "They're too committed to their mission. They would never break the rules themselves. It goes against everything they've worked for."

"They'll clean up afterward. A double betrayal." Elsa said in a grim voice. "No harm done."

Jasper leaned forward, shaking his head. "No, Carlisle is right. The Volturi do not break rules. Besides, it's much too sloppy. This… person, this threat—they have no idea what they're doing. A first-timer, I'd swear to it. I cannot believe the Volturi are involved. But they will be."

They all stared at each other, frozen with stress.

"Then let'sgo," Emmett almost roared. "What are we waiting for?"

Carlisle and Elsa exchanged a long glance. Elsa nodded once.

"We'll need you to teach us, Jasper," Carlisle finally said. "How to destroy them." Carlisle's jaw was hard, but I could see the pain in his eyes as he said the words. No one hated violence more than Carlisle.

There was something bothering me, and I couldn't put my finger on it. I was numb, horrified, deathly afraid. And yet, under that, I could feel that I was missing something important—something painfully obivious. Something that would make some sense out of the chaos. That would explain it.

"We're going to need help," Jasper said. "Do you think Taras and his family would be willing…? Another five mature vampires would make an enormous difference. And then Kate and Elena would be especially advantageous on our side. It would almost be easy, with their aid."

"We'll ask," Carlisle answered.

Jasper held out a cell phone. "We need to hurry."

I'd never seen Carlisle's innate calm so shaken. He took the phone, and paced toward the windows. He dialed a number, held the phone to his ear, and laid the other hand against the glass. He stared out into the foggy morning with a pained and ambivalent expression.

Elsa took my hand and pulled me to the white loveseat, I sat beside her, staring at her face while she stared at Carlisle.

Carlisle's voice was low and quick, difficult to hear. I heard him greet Taras, and then he raced through the situation too fast for me to understand much, though I could tell that the Alaskan vampires were not ignorant of what was going on in Seattle.

Then something changed in Carlisle's voice.

"Oh," he said, his voice sharper in surprise. "We didn't realize… that Ivan felt that way."

Elsa groaned at my side and closed her eyes. "Damn it. Damn Laurent to the deepest pit of hell where he belongs."

"Laurent?" I whispered, the blood emptying from my face, but Elsa didn't respond, focused on Carlisle's thoughts.

My short encounter with Laurent early this spring was not something that had faded or dimmed in my mind. I still remember every word he'd said before Kristoff and his pack had saved my life.

I actually came here as a favor to her…

Gerda. Laruent had been her first maneuver—she'd sent Laurent to observe, to see how hard it might be to get to me. He hadn't survived the wolves to report back.

Though he'd kept up his old ties with Gerda after Hans's death, he'd also formed new ties and new relationships. He'd gone to live with Taras's family in Alaska—Taras the strawberry blond—the closest friend the Cullens had in the vampire world, practically extended family. Laurent had been with them for almost a year previous to his death.

Carlisle was still talking, his voice not quite pleading. Persuasive, but with an edge. Then the edge abruptly won out over the persuasion.

"There's no question of that," Carlisle said in a stern voice. "We have a truce. They haven't broken it, and neither will we. I'm sorry to hear that… Of course. We'll just have to do our best alone."

Carlisle ended the call without waiting for an answer. He continued to stare out into the fog.

"What's the problem?" Emmett murmured to Elsa.

"Ivan was more involved with our friend Laurent than we knew. He's holding a grudge against the wolves for destroying him to save Anba. He wants—" She paused, looking down at me.

"Go on," I said as evenly as I could.

Her eyes tightened. "Ivan wants revenge. To take down the pack. They would trade their help for our permission."

"No!" I gasped.

"Don't worry," she told me in a flat voice. "Carlisle would never agree to it." She hesitated, then sighed. "Nor would I. Laurent had it coming"—this was almost a growl—"and I still owe the wolves for that."

"This isn't good," Jasper said. "It's too even a fight. We'd have the upper hand in skill, but not numbers. We'd win, but at what price?" His tense eyes flashed to Alice's face and away.

I felt my stomach drop as I grasped what Jasper meant.

We would win, but we would lose. Some wouldn't survive.

I looked around the room at their faces—Jasper, Alice, Emmett, Roy, Esme, Carlisle… Elsa—the faces of my friends, my second family.


	15. declaration

You can't be serious," I said Wednesday afternoon. "You've completely lost your mind!"

"Say whatever you like about me," Alice answered. "The party is still on."

I stared at her, my eyes so wide with disbelief it felt like they might fall out and land on my lunch tray.

"Oh, calm down, Anna! There's no reason not to go through with it. Besides, the invitations are already sent."

"But… the… you… I… insane!" I spluttered.

"You've already bought my present," she reminded me. "You don't have to do anything but show up."

I made an effort to calm myself. "With everything that's going on right now, a party is hardly appropriate."

"Graduation is what's going on right now, and a party is so appropriate it's almost passé."

"Alice!"

She sighed, and tried to be serious. "There are a few things we need to get in order now, and that's going to take a little time. As long as we're sitting here waiting, we might as well commemorate the good stuff. You're only going to graduate from high school—for the first time—once. You don't get to be human again, Anna. This is a once-in-a-lifetime-shot."

Elsa, silent through our little argument, flashed her a warning look. She stuck out her tongue at her. She was right—her soft voice would never carry over the babble of the cafeteria. And no one would understand the meaning behind her words in any case.

"What few things do we need to get in order?" I asked, refusing to be sidetracked.

Elsa answered in a low voice. "Jasper thinks we could use some help. Taras's family isn't the only choice we have. Carlisle's trying to track down a few old friends, and Jasper is looking up Peter and Charlotte. He's considering talking to Maria… but no one really wants to involve the southerners."

Alice shuddered delicately.

"It shouldn't be too hard to convince them to help," she continued. "Nobody wants a visit from Italy."

"But these friends—they're not going to be…vegetarians, right?" I protested, using the Cullens' tongue-in-cheek nickname for themselves.

"No," Elsa answered, suddenly expressionless.

"Here? In Forks?"

"They're friends," Alice reassured me. "Everything's going to be fine. Don't worry. And then, Jasper has to teach us a few courses on newborn elimination…"

Elsa's eyes brightened at that, and a brief smile flashed across her face. My stomach suddenly felt like it was full of sharp little splinters of ice.

"When are you going?" I asked in a hollow voice. I couldn't stand this—the idea that someone might not come back. What if it was Emmett, so brave and thoughtless that he was never the least bit cautious? Or Esme, so sweet and motherly that I couldn't even imagine her in a fight? Or Alice, so tiny, so fragile-looking? Or… but I couldn't even think the name, consider the possibility.

"A week," Elsa said casually. "That ought to give us enough time."

The icy splinters twisted uncomfortably in my stomach. I was suddenly nauseated.

"You look kind of green, Anna," Alice commented.

Elsa put her arm around me and pulled me tightly against her side. "It's going to be fine, Anna. Trust me."

Sure, I thought to myself. Trust her. The big topic, that was—trust. But it was easy for her to ask me to trust her when she wasn't the one who'd be sitting at home wondering who might not come home.

"We're still missing something…" I muttered. "Something important."

"It will be fine, Anna." Elsa said softly.

I sighed.

"Oh," Alice said, and a blank look crossed her face. Then her expression became surly. "I hate last-minute cancellations. So that puts the party attendance list down to sixty-five…"

"Sixty-five!"My eyes bulged again. I didn't have that many friends. Did I even know that many people?

"Who canceled?" Elsa wondered, ignoring me.

"Renée."

"What?" I gasped.

"She was going to surprise you for your graduation, but something went wrong. You'll have a message when you get home."

I went to grab my phone out of my pocket, feeling a rush of panic when I couldn't find it.

"I think you forgot it at home, it's probably sitting on your nightstand." Alice smiled.

"Oh, right."

For a moment, I just let myself enjoy the relief. Whatever it was that went wrong for my mother, I was eternally grateful to it. If she had come to Forksnow… I didn't want to think about it. My head would explode.

Alice was right, my phone was sitting on my nightstand, a small alert notifying me there was a new voice message. My feeling of relief flared again as I listened to my mother describe Phil's accident on the ball field—while demonstrating a slide, he'd tangled up with the catcher and broken his thigh bone; he was entirely dependent on her, and there was no way she could leave him. My mom was still apologizing when the message cut off.

"Well, that's one," I sighed.

"One what?" Elsa asked.

"One person I don't have to worry about getting killed this week."

She rolled her eyes.

"Why won't you and Alice take this seriously?" I demanded. "This isserious."

She smiled. "Confidence."

"Confidence and stupidity aren't that different in this case," I grumbled. I opened my contacts on my phone and called Renée. I knew it would be a long conversation, but I also knew that I wouldn't have to contribute much.

I just listened, and assured her every time I could get a word in: I wasn't disappointed, I wasn't mad, I wasn't hurt. She should concentrate on helping Phil get better. I passed on my "get well soon" to Phil, and promised to call her with every single detail from Fork High's generic graduation. Finally, I had to use my desperate need to study for finals to say goodbye.

Elsa's patience was endless. She waited politely through the whole conversation, just rubbing my back and smiling whenever I looked up. Her smile was a comfort in a lot of ways. Perhaps it was the superhuman beauty she possessed. Maybe it was my feelings for her. Or maybe it was that confidence she mentioned. Whatever it was, for a moment, while talking to my mother, while Elsa stood by and watched, I wasn't worried about hostile vampire armies.

As soon as I hung up and pocketed my phone, I stretched onto my tiptoes to kiss her. She put her arms around my waist and lifted me, so I wouldn't have to reach. That worked for me. I wrapped my arms around her neck and melted against her cold chest.

I felt her arms tighten around me, and she moaned quietly. I smirked against her lips before gently tracing my tongue along her bottom lip.

I felt her breath hitch in her throat and she pulled away. In a fluid motion she set me down on my bed, and stood in front of me trying to force her expression to look disappointed in me.

"I know you think that I have some kind of perfect, unyielding self-control, but that's not actually the case."

"I know," I smiled.

And she sighed.

"After school tomorrow," she said, changing the subject, "I'm going hunting with Carlisle, Esme, and Royal. Just for a few hours—we'll stay close. Alice, Jasper, and Emmett should be able to keep you safe."

"Ugh," I grumbled. Tomorrow was the first day of finals, and it was only a half-day. I had Calculus and History—the only two challenges in my line-up—so I'd have almost the whole day without her, and nothing to do but worry. "I hate being babysat."

"It's temporary," she promised.

"Jasper will be busy planning his newborn fighting lessons. Emmett's too preoccupied with the fight to pay much attention to me. And Alice is in party planner mode."

"They'll keep you entertained."

"Sure," I grumbled.

And then it occurred to me that I did have one option besides babysitters. "You know… I haven't been to La Push since the bonfire."

I watched her face carefully for any changes in expression. Her eyes tightened the tiniest bit.

"I'd be safe enough there," I reminded her.

She thought about it for a few seconds. "You're probably right."

Her face was calm, but just a little too smooth. I hoped she wasn't thinking too deeply about it, that might make her say no. I decided to change the subject. "Are you thirsty already?" I asked, reaching up to stroke the light shadow beneath her eye. Her irises were still a deep gold.

Not really." She seemed reluctant to answer, and that surprised me. I waited for an explanation.

"We want to be as strong as possible," she explained, still reluctant. "We'll probably hunt again on the way, looking for big game."

"That makes you stronger?"

She searched my face for something, but there was nothing to find but curiosity.

"Yes," she finally said. "Human blood makes us the strongest, though only fractionally. Jasper's been thinking about cheating—adverse as he is to the idea, he's nothing if not practical—but he won't suggest it. He knows what Carlisle will say."

"Would that help?" I asked quietly.

"It doesn't matter. We aren't going to change who we are."

"I wasn't suggesting that," I frowned. "I was thinking maybe you guys could rob a blood bank or something."

She smirked, then changed the subject again. "That's why they're so strong, of course. The newborns are full of human blood—their own blood, reacting to the change. It lingers in the tissues and strengthens them. Their bodies use it up slowly, like Jasper said, the strength starting to wane after about a year."

I sat, thoughtful for a moment. "How strong wouldIbe?"

She grinned. "Stronger than I am."

"Stronger than Emmett?"

The grin got bigger. "Yes. Do me a favor and challenge him to an arm-wrestling match. It would be a good experience for him."

I laughed. It sounded so ridiculous.

Then I sighed and hopped up from my bed, because I really couldn't put it off any longer. I had to cram, and cram hard. Luckily, I had Elsa's help, and Elsa was an excellent tutor—since she knew absolutely everything. I figured my biggest problem would be just focusing on the tests. If I didn't watch myself, I might end up writing my History essay on the vampire wars of the South, or the histories of the Quileutes.

I took a break to call Kristoff, and Elsa seemed just as comfortable as she had when I was on the phone with Renée. She rubbed my back again.

Though it was the middle of the afternoon, my call woke Kristoff up, and he was grouchy at first. He cheered right up when I asked if I could visit the next day. The Quileute school was already out for the summer, so he told me to come over as early as I could. I was pleased to have an option besides being babysat. Plus it would be nice to see Kristoff, and there was certainly more dignity in that.

Some of that dignity was lost when Elsa insisted again on delivering me to the border line like a child being exchanged by custodial guardians.

"So how do you feel you did on your exams?" Elsa asked on the way, making small talk.

"History was easy, but I don't know about the Calculus. It seemed like it was making sense, so that probably means I failed."

She laughed. "I'm sure you did fine. Or, if you're really worried, I could bribe Mr. Varner to give you an A."

"Er, thanks, but no thanks."

She laughed again, but suddenly stopped when we turned the last bend and saw the red car waiting. She frowned in concentration, and then, as she parked the car, she sighed.

"What's wrong?" I asked, my hand on the door.

She shook her head. "Nothing." Her eyes narrowed as she stared through the windshield toward the other car. I'd seen that look before.

"You're notlisteningto Kristoff, are you?" I accused.

"It's not easy to ignore someone when he's shouting."

"Oh." I thought about that for a second. "What's he shouting?" I whispered.

"I'm absolutely certain he'll mention it himself," Elsa said in a wry tone.

I would have pressed the issue, but then Kristoff honked his horn—two quick impatient honks.

"That's impolite." Elsa growled.

"That's Kristoff," I sighed, and I hurried out before Kristoff did something to really set Elsa's teeth on edge.

I waved to Elsa before I got into the Rabbit and, from that distance, it looked like she was truly upset about the honking thing… or whatever Kristoff was thinking about. But my eyes were weak and made mistakes all the time.

I wanted Elsa to come to me. I wanted to make both of them get out of their cars and shake hands and be friends—be Elsa and Kristoff rather thanvampireandwerewolf. It was as if I had those two stubborn magnets in my hands again, and I was holding them together, trying to force nature to reverse herself…

I sighed, and climbed into Kristoff's car.

"Hey, babe." Kristoff's tone was cheerful, but his voice dragged. I examined his face as he started down the road, driving a little faster than I did, but slower than Elsa, on his way back to La Push.

Kristoff looked different, maybe even sick. His eyelids drooped and his face was drawn. His shaggy hair stuck out in random directions; it was almost to his chin in some places.

"Are you all right, Kristoff?"

"Just tired," he managed to get out before he was overcome by a massive yawn. When he finished, he asked, "What do you want to do today?"

I eyed him for a moment. "Let's just hang out at your place for now," I suggested. He didn't look like he was up for much more than that. "We can ride our bikes later."

"Sure, sure," he said, yawning again.

Kristoff's house was vacant, and that felt strange. I realized I thought of Billy as a nearly permanent fixture there.

"Where's your dad?"

"Over at the Clearwaters'. He's been hanging out there a lot since Harry died. Sue gets lonely."

Kristoff sat down on the old couch that was no bigger than a loveseat and squished himself to the side to make room for me.

"Oh. That's nice. Poor Sue."

"Yeah… she's having trouble…" He hesitated. "With her kids."

"Sure, it's got to be hard on Olaf and Liam, losing their dad…"

"Uh-huh," he agreed, lost in thought. He picked up the remote and flipped on the TV without seeming to think about it. He yawned.

"What's with you, Kristoff? You're like a zombie."

"I got about two hours of sleep last night, and four the night before," he told me. He stretched his long arms slowly, and I could hear the joints crack as he flexed. He settled his left arm along the back of the sofa behind me, and slumped back to rest his head against the wall. "I'm exhausted."

"Why aren't you sleeping?" I asked.

He made a face. "Sam's being difficult. He doesn't trust your vampires. I've been running double shifts for two weeks and nobody's touched me yet, but he still doesn't buy it. So I'm on my own for now."

"Double shifts? Is this because you're trying to watch out forme? Kristoff, that's wrong! You need to sleep. I'll be fine."

"It's no big deal." His eyes were abruptly more alert. "Hey, did you ever find out who was in your room? Is there anything new?"

I ignored the second question. "No, we didn't find anything out about my, um, visitor."

"Then I'll be around," he said as his eyes slid closed.

"Kristoff…," I sighed.

"Hey, it's the least I can do—I offered eternal servitude, remember. I'm your slave for life."

"I don't want a slave."

His eyes didn't open. "Whatdoyou want, Anna?"

"I want my friend Kristoff—and I don't want him half-dead, hurting himself in some misguided attempt—"

He cut me off. "Look at it this way—I'm hoping I can track down a vampire I'm allowed to kill, okay?"

I didn't answer. He looked at me then, peeking at my reaction.

"Kidding, babe."

I stared at the TV.

"So, any special plans next week? You're graduating. Wow. That's big." His voice turned flat, and his face, already draw, looked downright haggard as his eyes closed again—not in exhaustion this time, but in denial. I realized that graduation still had horrible significance for him, though I still hadn't made any concrete decisions.

"Nospecialplans," I said carefully, hoping he would hear the reassurance in my words without a more difficult explanation. I didn't want to get into it now. After all, he didn't look up for any difficult conversations. "Well, I do have to go to a graduation party. Mine." I made a disgusted sound. "Alicelovesparties, and she's invited the whole town to her place the night of. It's going to be horrible."

His eyes opened as I spoke, and a relieved smile made his face look less worn. "I didn't get an invitation. I'm hurt," he teased.

"Consider yourself invited. It's supposedlymyparty, so I should be able to ask who I want."

"Thanks," he said sarcastically, his eyes slipping closed once more.

"I wish you would come," I said without any hope. "It would be more fun. For me, I mean."

"Sure, sure," he mumbled. "That would be very… wise…" His voice trailed off.

A few seconds later, he was snoring.

Poor Kristoff. I studied his dreaming face, and liked what I saw. While he slept, every trace of defensiveness and bitterness disappeared and suddenly he was the boy who had been my very best friend before all the werewolf and vampire nonsense had gotten in the way. He looked so much younger. He looked like my Kristoff.

I nestled into the couch to wait out his nap, hoping he would sleep for a while and make up some of what he'd lost. I flipped through channels, but there wasn't much on. I settled for a cooking show, trying to glean a few tips for David's dinners. Kristoff continued to snore, getting louder. I chuckled to myself and tried to concentrate on the TV without turning it up.

I was strangely relaxed, almost sleepy, too. This house felt safer than my own, probably because no one had ever come here looking for me here. I curled up next to Kristoff and thought about taking a nap myself. Maybe I would have, but Kristoff's snoring was impossible to tune out. So, instead of sleeping, I let my mind wander.

Finals were done, and most of them had been a cakewalk. Calculus, the one exception, was behind me, pass or fail. My high school education was over. And I didn't really know how I felt about that. I couldn't look at it objectively, tied up as it was with my life, as I currently knew it, being over.

Everything was up in the air. I imagined what my future must look like to Alice right now. Would she be able to see a future? Or would it be a shimmering sea of uncertainty? No decisions had been made, no future had been set. What decision would I make?

There was the future Elsa hoped for me, and I mostly hoped for myself, of me going off to college and enjoying every human experience a person could ask for. Picking a major, changing my mind, changing it again, and then going on to a career, buying a house… all that. A human future, warm and mundane.

There was the possibility that the Volturi would come to see if Elsa had made good on her promise to change me. Us on the run, frantic and in fear. Never settling down, never forming bonds with anyone but each other. A frantic, jumbled future.

Or else, there was another option. A decision I was constantly shying away from. A future that was cold as ice, and unchanging as stone. Becoming a vampire. Leaving everything—leaving everyonebehind me.

And then, of course, there was one other matter. The matter of marriage. Elsa wanted to marry me, and of course it was sweet and wonderful. But somehow I couldn't imagine it. Something in me resisted it. I tried to imagine telling my parents that I was getting married this summer. Telling Angela and Ben and Makayla and Jeremy. I couldn't. I couldn't think of the words to say. Why was it so hard? Why was I so opposed to it? I didn't know.

Then, for just a second, I saw a vision of Elsa and me on a porch swing, her arm around me, and matching rings on our fingers. The future Elsa had envisioned for us. It was a tempting future, sure. So why couldn't I make the decision to choose it?

As I imagined that future, it began to fade in and out. I was still there, but I was no longer sitting on a porch swing. I was sitting on a piece of driftwood, on First Beach. It was no longer Elsa sitting beside me, with her arm around me, but Kristoff. Smiling the smile I knew and loved.

Kristoff suddenly snorted and rolled to his side, snapping me out of my vision. His arm swung off the back of the couch and pinned me against his body.

Holy crow, but he was heavy! Andhot. It was sweltering after just a few seconds.

I tried to slide out from under his arm without waking him, but I had to shove a little bit, and when his arm fell off me, his eyes snapped open. He jumped to his feet, looking around anxiously.

"What? What?" he asked, disoriented.

"It's just me, Kristoff. I'm sorry I woke you."

He turned to look at me, blinking and confused. "Anna?"

"Hey, sleepy."

"Oh, man! Did I fall asleep? I'm sorry! How long was I out?"

"A few Emerils. I lost count."

He flopped back on the couch next to me. "Wow. Sorry about that, really."

I ran my fingers through his hair, trying to smooth the wild disarray. "Don't feel bad. I'm glad you got some sleep."

He yawned and stretched. "I'm useless these days. No wonder Billy's always gone. I'm so boring."

"You're fine, Kristoff," I assured him.

"Ugh, let's go outside. I need to walk around or I'll pass out again."

"Kristoff, go back to sleep. I'm good. I'll call Elsa to come pick me up." I patted my pockets as I spoke, and realized they were empty. "Shoot, I'll have to borrow your phone. I think I must have left mine in her car." I started to unfold myself.

"No!" Kristoff insisted, taking my hand in his. "No, stay, please. You hardly ever make it down. I can't believe I wasted all this time."

He pulled me off the couch as he spoke, and then led the way outside, ducking his head as he passed under the doorframe. It had gotten much cooler while Kristoff slept; the air was unseasonably cold—there must be a storm on the way. It felt like February, not May.

The wintry air seemed to make Kristoff more alert. He paced back and forth in front of the house for a minute, dragging me along with him.

"I'm an idiot," he muttered to himself.

"What's the matter, Kristoff? So you fell asleep. You needed it!" I shrugged.

"I wanted to talk to you. I can't believe this."

"Talk to me now," I said.

Kristoff met my eyes for a second, and then looked away quickly toward the trees. It almost looked like he was blushing, but it was hard to tell with his dark skin.

I suddenly remembered what Elsa had said when she dropped me off—that Kristoff would tell me whatever he was shouting in his head. I started gnawing on my lip.

"Look," Kristoff said. "I was planning to do this a little differently." He laughed, and it sounded like he was laughing at himself. "Smoother," he added. "I was going to work up to it, but"—and he looked at the clouds, dimmer as the afternoon progressed—"I'm out of time to work."

He laughed again, nervous. We were still pacing slowly.

"What are you talking about?" I demanded.

He took a deep breath. "I want to tell you something. And you already know it… but I think I should say it out loud anyway. Just so there's never any confusion on the subject."

I planted my feet, and he came to a stop. I took my hand away and folded my arms across my chest. I was suddenly very nervous to hear what he was building up to.

Kristoff's eyebrows pulled down, throwing his deep-set eyes into shadow. They were pitch black as they bored into mine.

"I'm in love with you, Anna," Kristoff said in a strong, sure voice. "Anna, I love you. And I want you to pick me instead of her. Maybe you don't feel that way, but I need the truth out there so that you know your options. I wouldn't want a miscommunication to stand in our way."


	16. wager

I stared at him for a long minute, speechless. I couldn't find a single word to say to him. Too many thoughts were flooding through my mind.

As he watched my stunned expression, the seriousness left his face.

"Okay," he said, grinning. "That's all."

"Kristoff—" It felt like there was something sticking in my throat. I tried to clear the obstruction. "I can't—I mean I don't… I… I have to go."

I turned, but he caught my shoulders and spun me around.

"No, wait. Iknow. I know how things are, Anna. But, look, answer me this, all right? Do you want me go away and never see you again? Be honest."

It was hard to concentrate on his question, so it took a minute to answer. "No, I don't want that at all," I finally answered.

Kristoff grinned again. "See."

"But I don't… I don't know if I want you around for the same reason that you want me around," I objected.

"Tell me exactly why you want me around, then."

I thought carefully. "I miss you when you're not there. When you're happy," I qualified carefully, "It makes me happy. But, Krisyoff, I love you, I'm just notinlove with you."

He nodded, unruffled. "But you do want me around."

"Yes." I sighed. He was impossible to discourage.

"Then I'll stick around."

"You're a glutton for punishment," I grumbled.

"Yep." He stroked the tips of his fingers across my right cheek. I caught his hand and held it firmly.

"Do you think you could behave yourself a little better, at least?" I sighed.

"No, I don't. You decide, Anna. You can have me the way I am—bad behavior included—or not at all."

I stared at him, frustrated. "That's mean."

"So are you."

That pulled me up short, and I took an involuntary step back. He was right. If I wasn't mean—and greedy, too—I would tell him I didn't want to be friends and walk away. It was wrong to try to keep my friend when that would hurt him. Why couldn't I just let Kristoff go? Why was I doing this to him?

"You're right," I whispered.

He laughed. "I forgive you. Just try not to gettoomad at me. Because I recently decided that I'm not giving up. Remember what I said, babe?" He grinned at me. "I've got loads of time."

"Kristoff." I stared into his dark eyes, trying to make him take me seriously. "I loveher."

"You love me, too," he reminded me. "Maybe it's not the same way… Or maybe it is. She's not the only one for you, Anna. Not anymore. Maybe she was once, but she left. And now she's just going to have to deal with the consequence of that choice—me."

I shook my head. "You're impossible."

Suddenly, he was serious. He put his hand on my cheek, gently holding my face so that I couldn't look away from his intent gaze.

"Until your heart stops beating, Anna," he said. "I'll be here—fighting. Don't forget that you have options."

"I—I don't want options," I stammered, trying to pull my eyes free of his, but somehow I couldn't. "My heartbeats could be numbered, Kristoff. Time isn't on my side anymore."

His eyes narrowed. "All the more reason to fight—fight harder now, while I can," he whispered.

He still had his hand on my cheek, his thumb gently stroked my cheekbone, then his other arm moved to my waist. I felt my face begin to burn red. Abruptly, I saw the resolve form in his eyes.

"Kristoff—" I started to object, but it was too late.

His lips crushed mine, stopping my protest. He kissed me urgently, roughly, his other hand now gripping tight around my waist, making escape impossible. I shoved against his chest with all my strength, but he didn't even seem to notice. His mouth was soft, despite the urgency, his lips molding to mine in a warm, unfamiliar way.

I grabbed at his face, trying to push him away, failing again. He seemed to notice this time, though, and it aggravated him. His lips forced mine open, and I could feel his hot breath in my mouth.

I relaxed my body as best I could under the circumstances, and in response his arms loosened slightly. I took the opportunity to shove him, hard as I could, off of me. He stumbled back and stared at me with a slightly surprised, if not vaguely euphoric look on his face. My eyes felt like daggers as I glared at him.

I pulled my arm back and then let it snap forward, punching him in the mouth with as much power as I could force out of my body.

There was a crunching sound.

"Ow!OW!" I screamed, frantically hopping up and down in agony while I clutched my hand to my chest. It felt like it was broken.

Kristoff stared at me in shock. "Are you all right?"

"No, dammit!You broke my hand!"

"Anna,youbroke your hand. Now stop dancing around and let me look at it."

"Do not touch me!" I growled at him. He shrank away minutely from the anger in my eyes. "I'm going home!"

"I'll get my car," he said quietly. He wasn't even rubbing his jaw like they did in the movies. How pathetic.

"No, thanks," I snapped. "I'd rather walk." I turned toward the road. It was only a few miles to the border. As soon as I got away from him, Alice would see me. She'd send somebody to pick me up.

"Just let me drive you home," Kristoff insisted. Unbelievably, he had the nerve to wrap his arm around my waist and turn me to look at him. "Come on, Anna—"

I kneed him. In the groin. Hard.

Kristoff yelped, and buckled over. Apparently, the rest of him wasn't as tough as his face.

I decided that walking all the way home would only prolong the pain in my hand and I needed to get it looked at as quickly as I could. I waited for Krisyoff to stop groaning on the ground.

When he had recovered, he solemnly followed me to his car. Opened the door, and helped me in. When he got in the driver's side, he sighed heavily.

"Anna…" He began.

"Don't." I snapped without looking at him. "I can't believe that punch didn't hurt you at all."

"I may not be made out of stone, but I'm notthatsoft." He grumbled. Then he shifted uncomfortably. "Mostly…"

"Hmph." I grunted in a mix of annoyance and pleasure at having leftsomesort of a dent.

"Oh, c'mon, Anna," he said, glancing tentatively at me. "That had to be better than kissing a rock."

"Not even remotely close," I told him coldly.

He pursed his lips. "You could just be saying that."

"But I'm not."

That seemed to bother him for a second, but then he perked up. "You're just mad. I don't have any experience with this kind of thing, but I thought it was pretty incredible myself."

"Ugh," I groaned.

"You're going to think about it tonight. When she thinks you're asleep, you'll be thinking about your options."

"If I think about you tonight, Kristoff Black, it will be about how disgusted I am with you."

He slowed the car to a crawl, turning to stare at me with his dark eyes wide and earnest. "Just think about how it could be, Anna" he urged in a soft, eager voice. "You wouldn't have to change anything for me. You know David would be happy if you picked me. I could protect you just as well as your vampire can—maybe better. And I would make you happy, Anna. There's so much I could give you that she can't. I'll bet she couldn't even kiss you like that—because she would hurt you. I would never, never hurt you, Anna."

I held up my injured hand.

A guilty looked crossed his face. "That wasn't my fault. I mean, I didn't do it on purpose."

"You're not helping your case any."

"C'mon, Anna," he sighed.

"Kristoff, Iloveher. I'mhappywith her."

"But you were almost happywithouther," he said pointedly. "When she left, you started moving on. You could be happy without her. You could be happy with me."

"Kristoff, I—"

"Besides," he interrupted, "you'll never be able to be as sure of her as you are of me. She left you once, she could do it again."

"No, she will not," I said shortly. I wasn't trying to be vindictive, but I was angry at him. "You left me once," I reminded in a cold voice, thinking of the weeks he'd hidden from me, the word's he'd said to me in the woods beside his home…

"I never did," he argued hotly. "They told me I couldn't tell you—that it wasn't safefor youif we were together. But I never left, never! I used to run around your house at night—like I do now. Just making sure you were okay."

"You don't get to make me feel bad for you, Kristoff Black. Not right now." I said icily, my eyes staring straight ahead. "Take me home. My hand hurts."

He sighed, and started driving at a normal speed, watching the road.

"Just think about it, Anna."

"No, thank you," I sniffed.

"You will. Tonight. And I'll be thinking about you while you're thinking about me."

"Maybe if I'm having a nightmare about you. Which is likely."

He grinned over at me. "You kissed me back."

I gasped, unthinkingly balling my hands up into fists again, hissing when my hurt hand reacted.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

"I didnot."

"I think I can tell the difference."

"Obviously you can't—that was not kissing back, that was trying to get you the hell off of me, youidiot."

He laughed a low, throaty laugh. "Touchy. Almostoverlydefensive, I would say."

"Knock it off, or Iwillknee you again and I canpromiseyou that you won't recover as well."

He didn't answer, but his posture shrank slightly.

"And we will be perfectly clear on the fact that I absolutely didnotkiss you back, Kristoff Black." I said, glaring over at him.

"Anna—" he began, but I cut him off.

"I want you to look at my face. Look very carefully at my face and tell me if I'm lying about kissing you back." I snapped.

He turned his head to glance at me, a small smirk dancing on the corners of his lips. The second his eyes met mine, any trace of humor disappeared from his face and was replaced with obvious disappointment. He looked back to the road.

I took a deep breath and looked down at my throbbing hand. I concentrated on the pain, trying to stretch out my fingers, to ascertain where the most damage was. Sharp pains stabbed along my knuckles. I groaned.

"I'm really sorry about your hand," Kristoff said in a small, but sincere, voice. "Next time you want to hit me, use a baseball bat or a crowbar, okay?"

"Don't think I'll forget that," I muttered.

I didn't realize where we were going until we were on my road.

"Why are you taking me here?" I demanded.

He looked at me blankly. "I thought you said you were going home?"

"Ugh. I guess you can't take me to Elsa's house, can you?" I ground my teeth in frustration.

Pain twisted across his face, and I could see that this affected more than anything else I'd said.

"This is your home, Anna," he said quietly.

"Yes, it is, but do any doctors live here?" I asked, holding up my hand again.

"Oh." He thought about that for a minute. "I'll take you to the hospital. Or David can."

"I don't want to go to the hospital. It's unnecessary."

He let the Rabbit idle in front of the house, deliberating with an unsure expression. David's cruiser was in the driveway.

I sighed. "Go home, Kristoff."

I climbed out of the car awkwardly, heading for the house. The engine cut off behind me, and I was less surprised than annoyed to find Kristoff beside me again.

"What are you going to do?" he asked.

"I'm going to get some ice on my hand, and then I am going to call Elsa and tell her to come and get me and take me to Carlisle so that he can fix my hand. Then, if you're still here, I am going to go hunt up a crowbar."

He didn't answer. He opened the front door and held it for me.

We walked silently past the front room where David was lying on the sofa.

"Hey, kids," he said, sitting forward. "Nice to seeyouhere, Kristoff."

"Hey, David," Kristoff answered quietly, pausing. I continued straight to the kitchen.

"What's wrong, Anba?" David wondered.

"She thinks she broke her hand," I heard Kristoff tell him. I went to the freezer and pulled out a tray of ice cubes.

"How did she do that?" I could hear David getting to his feet, a twinge of panic in his voice.

"She hit me." Kristoff answered.

"Why did she hit you?" David's voice was grave.

I beat the tray against the edge of the sink. The ice scattered inside the basin, and I grabbed a handful with my good hand and wrapped the cubes in the dishcloth on the counter.

"Why did she hit you, Kristoff?" David asked again, his voice serious.

"Because I kissed her," Kristoff finally said.

I could hear a pause as went for the phone.

"Did she ask you to kiss her?" David asked slowly.

There was a longer pause.

"No." Kristoff said quietly.

I dialed Elsa's cell.

"Anna?" she answered on the first ring. She sounded more than relieved—she was delighted. I could hear the Volvo's engine running in the background; she was already in the car—that was good. "You left your phone… I'm sorry, did Kristoff drive you home?"

"Yes," I grumbled. "Will you come and get me, please?"

"I'm on my way," she said at once. "What's wrong?"

"I want Carlisle to look at my hand. I think it's broken."

It had gone quiet in the front room, and I wondered if Kristoff had bolted.

"What happened?" Elsa demanded, her voice going flat.

"I punched Kristoff," I admitted.

"Good," Elsa said bleakly. "Though I'm sorry you're hurt."

I laughed once, without humor. "I wish I'd hurthim." I sighed in frustration. "I didn't do any damage at all."

"I can fix that," she offered.

"I was hoping you would say that."

There was a slight pause. "That doesn't sound like you," she said, wary now. "What did hedo?"

"He kissed me," I growled.

All I heard on the other end of the line was the sound of an engine accelerating.

In the other room, David spoke again. "I think you need to go home, Kristoff," he said, and it wasn't a suggestion—it was an order.

"I need to talk to Anna."

"I don't think I want you here right now, to be perfectly honest." David said severely.

"Is the dog still there?" Elsa finally spoke again.

"Yes."

"I'm around the corner," she said darkly, and the line disconnected.

As I hung up the phone I heard the sound of her car racing down the street. The brakes protested loudly as she slammed to a stop out front. I went to get the door.

"Anna, kiddo, is your hand okay?" David rushed to me as I walked by, his face full of concern. Kristoff hovered in the background, looking embarrassed.

I lifted the ice pack to show it off. "It hurts… and it's swelling."

"Do you want me to kick Kristoff out?" David asked quietly.

"It's fine, Dad. Thank you, though." I sighed.

"I will, if you want me to." David raised an eyebrow. "Either way, Billy's going to get an earful from me."

I smiled a little before walking on to open the door. Elsa was waiting.

"Let me see," she murmured.

She examined my hand gently, so carefully that it caused me no pain at all. Her hands were almost as cold as the ice, and they felt good against my skin.

"I'm not sure if it's broken, it may be just a bad sprain," she said. "I'm proud of you. You must have put some force behind this."

"As much as I have." I sighed. "Not enough, apparently."

She kissed my hand softly. "I'll take care of it," she promised. And then she called, "Kristoff," her voice still quiet and even.

"Now, now," David cautioned stepping forward.

Kristoff walked closer, slowly, but still hovering behind David.

"I don't want any fighting, do you understand?" David looked at Elsa, then at Kristoff. "As chief of police, I'm warning both of you that I don't want this to get physical." He cleared his throat. "However, given the circumstances," he looked back at Elsa, "as Anba's father, I wouldn't mind if you give Kristoff a piece of your mind." He said seriously.

"Understood," Elsa said in a restrained tone.

"Dad, if you're still throwing your badge around can I press charges?" I asked, glaring at Kristoff.

Dabid raised an eyebrow, trying to hide a smirk. "I could manage an assault charge, I think."

"I'll take the trade any day." Krostoff muttered.

Elsa grimaced.

"Actually, Dad, don't you have a baseball bat somewhere in your room? I want to borrow it for a minute."

David was definitely hiding a smirk now. "Easy, Anna."

"Let's go have Carlisle look at your hand before someone ends up in a jail cell," Elsa said. She put her arm around me and pulled me to the door.

"Fine," I said, leaning against her. I wasn't so angry anymore, seeing how protective David had been and now that Elsa was with me. I felt comforted by both of them, and my hand didn't bother me as much.

We were walking down the sidewalk when I heard David's angry voice behind me.

"What do you think you're doing, Kristoff?"

"Give me a minute, David" Kristoff answered. "Don't worry, I won't pick a fight."

I looked back and Kristoff was following us, stopping to close the door in David's surprised and unhappy face.

Elsa ignored him at first, leading me to the car. She helped me inside, shut the door, and then she turned to face Kristoff on the sidewalk.

I leaned anxiously through the open window. David was visible in the house, peeking through the drapes in the front room.

Krostoff's stance was casual, his arms folded across his chest, but the muscles in his jaw were tight.

Elsa spoke in a voice so peaceful and gentle that it made the words strangely more threatening. "I'm not going to kill you now, because it would upset Anna."

"Hmph," I grumbled.

Elsa turned slightly to throw me a quick smile. Her face was still calm. "It would bother you in the morning," she said, brushing her fingers across my cheek.

Then she turned back to Kristoff. "But if you ever bring her back damaged again—and I don't care whose fault it is; I don't care if she merely trips, or if a meteor falls out of the sky and hits her in the head—if you return her to me in less than the perfect condition that I left her in, you will be running with three legs. Do you understand that, mongrel?"

Kristoff rolled his eyes.

"Who's going back?" I muttered.

Elsa continued as if she hadn't heard me. "And if you ever kiss her again, Iwillbreak your jaw for her," she promised, her voice still gentle and velvet and deadly.

"What if she wants me to?" Kristoff said quickly.

"Hah!" I snorted.

"If that's what she wants, then I won't object." Elsa shrugged, untroubled. "You might want to wait for her tosayit, rather than trust your interpretation of body language—but it's your face."

Kristoff tried to grin, but something looked off about it.

"You wish," I grumbled.

"Yes, he does," Elsa murmured.

"Well, if you're done rummaging through my head," Kristoff said with a thick edge of annoyance, "why don't you go take care of her hand?"

"One more thing," Elsa said slowly. "I'll be fighting for her, too. You should know that. I'm not taking anything for granted, and I'll be fighting twice as hard as you will."

"Good," Kristoff growled. "It's no fun beating someone who forfeits."

"Sheismine."Do you hear me mutt mine! you dont mess with a vampires mate! Elsa's low voice was suddenly dark, not as composed as before. "I didn't say I would fight fair."

"Neither did I."

"Best of luck."

Kristoff nodded. "Yes, may the bestonewin."

"That sounds about right… pup."

Kristoff grimaced briefly, then he composed his face and leaned around Elsa to smile at me as best as he could. I glowered back.

"I hope your hand feels better soon. I'm really sorry you're hurt."

His non-apology only angered me more. I narrowed my eyes, and when I spoke my voice was venomous.

"If that's your best attempt at an apology, Kristoff Black, then congratulations; You're just as childish and idiotic as your actions today made you seem, and you've not only completely lost this stupid fight youthinkyou're in the running for, but you've also completely obliteratedanychance youeverhad at being my friend again."

I saw him minutely stagger back, surprise on his face. I turned to look out the windshield, away from him. Elsa walked around the car and climbed in the driver's side. I didn't know if Kristoff went back into the house or continued to stand there, watching me.

"How do you feel?" Elsa asked as we drove away.

"Irritated."

She chuckled. "I meant your hand."

I shrugged. "I've had worse."

"True," she agreed, and frowned. "You didn't spare his feelings."

"I don't think he deserved anything less than the truth of the situation." I said quietly.

"Perhaps," Elsa smiled, "but he's very upset."

"Good."

Elsa drove around her house to the garage. Emmett and Royal were there, Royal's legs were sticking out from under the bottom of Emmett's huge Jeep. Emmett was sitting beside him, one hand reached under the jeep towards him. It took me a moment to realize that he was acting as the jack.

Emmett watched curiously as Elsa helped me carefully out of the car. His eyes zeroed in on the hand I cradled against my chest.

Emmett grinned. "Trying to walk and chew gum at the same time again, Anna?"

I glared at him fiercely. "No, Emmett. I punched a werewolf in the face."

Emmett blinked, and then burst into a roar of laughter. "Badass!" he howled.

As Elsa led me past them, Royal spoke from under the car.

"Jasper's going to win the bet," he said dryly.

Emmett's laughter stopped at once, and he studied me with appraising eyes.

"What bet?" I demanded, pausing.

"Let's get you to Carlisle," Elsa urged. She was staring at Emmett. His head shook infinitesimally.

"What bet?" I insisted as I turned on her.

"Thanks, Royal," she muttered as she tightened her arm around my waist and pulled me toward the house.

"Elsa…," I grumbled.

"It's infantile," she shrugged. "Emmett and Jasper like to gamble."

"Emmett will tell me." I tried to turn, but her arm was like iron around me.

She sighed. "They're betting on how many times you might… slip up in the first year."

"Oh." I grimaced, trying to hide my sudden horror as I realized what she meant. "They have a bet about how many people I'll kill if I'm changed?"

"Yes," she admitted unwillingly. "Royal thinks the odds are in Jasper's favor."

I laughed humorlessly. "Jasper's betting high."

"It will make him feel better if you have a hard time adjusting. He's tired of being the weakest link."

"Sure. Of course it will. I guess I could throw in a few extra homicides, if it makes Jasper happy. Why not?" I was babbling, my voice a blank monotone. In my head, I was seeing newspaper headlines, lists of names…

She squeezed me. "You don't have to worry about it now. In fact, you don't have to worry about it ever, if you don't want to."

I sighed. Elsa hurried me into the house.

My handwasn'tbroken. Just a bad sprain. Carlisle told me I'd be fine in a brace if I promised to keep it on. I promised.

Elsa could tell I was out of it as Carlisle worked to fit a brace carefully to my hand. She worried aloud a few times that I was in pain, but I assured her that wasn't it.

As if I needed—or even had room for—one more thing to worry about.

All of Jasper's stories about newly created vampires had been percolating in my head since he'd explained his past. Now those stories jumped into sharp focus with the news of his and Emmett's wager. I wondered randomly what they were betting. What was a motivating prize when you had everything?

I considered what it meant to become a vampire, if running didn't work, if hiding wasn't enough. If I had to become a vampire, what would I be? I'd be strong and fast. I'd be beautiful, probably. I'd be just like the Cullens.

I'd also be wild. Bloodthirsty. Maybe I would not be able to stop myself from killing people. Strangers, people who had never harmed me. People like the growing number of victims in Seattle, who'd had families and friends and futures. People who'd hadlives. And I could be the monster who took that away from them.

Could I handle that possibility? I trusted Elsa, trusted her to keep me from doing anything I would regret. I knew she'd take me to Antarctica and hunt penguins if I asked her to. And I would do whatever it took to be a good person. A good vampire. If that's what I chose.

But then, if I really were somehow like that—like the nightmarish images of newborns Jasper had painted in my head—could I possibly beme? And if all I wanted was to kill people, what would happen to the things I wantednow?

Elsa was so obsessed with me not missing anything as a human. Usually, it seemed kind of silly. There weren't many human experiences that I worried about missing. As long as I justexperienced, what was I missing?

I stared at her face while she watched Carlisle fix my hand. There was nothing in this world that I wanted more than her. Would that,couldthat, change?

Was there a human experience that I wasnotwilling to give up?

 **so what. do you think about what Kristoff did. how did you like Anna and Elsa's reactions to it. what's your thoughts**


	17. epoch

"I have nothing to wear!" I moaned to myself.

Every item of clothing I owned was strewn across my bed; my drawers and closets were bare. I stared into the empty recesses, willing something suitable to appear.

My khaki pants lay over the back of the rocking chair, waiting for me to discover something that went with them just exactly right. Something that would make me look stylish and grown up. Something that saidspecial occasion. I probably was missing the mark entirely just by choosing khakis.

It was almost time to go, and I was still wearing my favorite old sweats. Unless I could find something better here—and the odds weren't looking good at this point—I was going to graduate in them.

I scowled at the pile of clothes in my bed.

The kicker was that I knew exactly what I would have worn if it were still available—my kidnapped red button up shirt. I threw myself facedown onto my bed.

"Stupid, thieving, annoying vampire!" I growled in the clothes.

"What did I do?" Alice demanded.

My head shot up. Alice was leaning casually beside the open window as if she'd been there the whole time.

"Knock, knock," she added with a grin.

"Is it really so hard to wait for me to get the door?"

She threw a flat, white box onto my bed, followed by a black shoebox. "I'm just passing through. I thought you might need something to wear."

I looked at the packages lying on top of my unsatisfying wardrobe warily.

"Admit it," Alice said. "I'm a lifesaver."

"You're a lifesaver," I muttered. "Thank you."

"Well, it's nice to get something right for a change. You don't know how irritating it is—missing things the way I have been. I feel so useless. So… normal." She cringed in horror of the word.

"I can't imagine how awful that must feel. Being normal? My god."

She laughed. "Well, at least this makes up for missing your annoying thief—now I just have to figure out what I'm not seeing in Seattle."

When she said the words that way—putting the two situations together in one sentence—right then it clicked. The elusive, ridiculously obvious, something that had been bothering me for days, the important connection that I couldn't quite put together, suddenly became clear. I stared at her, my face frozen with whatever expression was already in place.

"Aren't you going to open it?" she asked. She sighed when I didn't move immediately, and tugged the top of the white box off herself. She pulled something out and held it up, but I couldn't concentrate on what it was. "Very nice, don't you think? I picked blue, because I know it's Elsa's favorite on you."

I wasn't listening.

"It's the same," I whispered.

"What is?" she demanded. "You don't have anything like this. For crying out loud, the nicest thing you own is a pair of khakis!"

"No, Alice! Forget the clothes, listen!"

"You don't like them?" Alice's face clouded with disappointment.

"Listen, Alice, don't you see? It's thesame! The one who broke in and stole my things, and the new vampires in Seattle. They're connected!"

The clothes slipped from her fingers and fell back into the box.

Alice focused now, her voice suddenly sharp. "Why do you think that?"

"Remember what Elsa said? About someone using the holes in your vision to keep you from seeing the newborns? And then what you said before, about the timing being too perfect—how careful my thief was to make no contact, as if he knew you would see that. I think you were right, Alice, I think he did know. I think he was using those holes, too. And what are the odds thattwodifferent people not only know enough about you to do that, but also decided to do it at exactly the same time? No way. It's one person. The same one. The one who is making the army is the one who stole my scent."

Alice wasn't accustomed to being taken by surprise. She froze, and was still for so long that I started counting in my head as I waited. She didn't move for two minutes straight. Then her eyes focused on me.

"You're right," she said in a hollow tone. "Of course you're right. And when you put it that way…"

"Elsa had it wrong," I whispered. "It was a test… to see if it would work. If he could get in and out safely as long as he didn't do anything you would be watching out for. Like trying to kill me… and he didn't take my things to prove he'd found me. He stole my scent… so thatotherscould find me."

Her eyes were wide with shock. I was right, and I could see that she knew it, too.

"Oh, no," she mouthed.

My emotions were a complete jumble. As I processed the fact that someone had created an army of vampires—the army that had gruesomely murdered dozens of people in Seattle—for the express purpose of destroyingme, I felt a horrible mix of guilt and relief.

The guilt was obvious, the relief came from finally solving that irritating feeling that I was missing something both vital and obvious.

"Well," I deadpanned, "Everyone can relax. Nobody's trying to exterminate the Cullens after all."

"If you think that one thing has changed, you're absolutely wrong," Alice said through her teeth. "If someone wants one of us, they're going to have to get through the rest of us to get to her."

"Thanks Alice. But at least we know what they're really after. That has to help."

"Maybe," she muttered. She started pacing back and forth across my room.

Knock, knock, knock—a panicked fist drummed against my door.

I jumped, Alice didn't seem to notice.

"Are you ready, kiddo? We're gonna be late!" David sounded edgy. He hated occasions about as much as I did. In his case, a lot of the problem was having to dress up.

"Almost, give me a minute," I said hoarsely.

He was quiet for half a second. "Are you okay?"

"I'm just nervous, Dad, I'll be right out."

"Okay, kiddo." And I heard him clump down the stairs.

"I have to go," Alice whispered.

"Why?"

"Elsa is coming. If she hears this…"

"Go, go!" I urged immediately. Elsa would go berserk when she knew. I couldn't keep it from her for long, but maybe the graduation ceremony wasn't the best time for her reaction.

"Get dressed," Alice commanded as she flitted out the window.

I did what she said, dressing in a daze.

I was thankful I had at least done my hair before Alice came over, so I didn't have to worry about it now. I threw the ugly yellow polyester graduation robe over my arm, and was about to hurry down the stairs when I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror.

The dark blue button up shirt was exactly Elsa's favorite shade on me, and the black slacks were cut slim and perfectly tailored. The black shoes Alice had chosen looked effortlessly sophisticated and stylish. Amidst the panic and the stress that was now washing over me, I had to take a minute and appreciate this moment—this perfectlyhumanmoment—of me, standing in front of the mirror, dressed for my high school graduation and lookingdamngood. Maybe human experiences were pretty great, after all. Even when you have a homicidal army of bloodthirsty newborn vampires after you. Oh god.

I took a deep breath and hurried down the stairs.

"You look sharp," David said, already gruff with suppressed emotion. "Is that new?"

"Yeah," I tried to smile, my mind in a hundred different places. "Alice got it for me as a graduation gift. Thanks."

Elsa arrived just a few minutes after her sister left. It wasn't enough time for me to pull together a completely calm façade. But, since we were riding in the cruise with David, she never had a chance to ask me what was wrong.

David's only request was that he be allowed to drive me to my graduation, and I was perfectly fine with that. I had mentioned that I had been planning on riding with Elsa, who had then cheerfully suggested that we all go together. David had agreed with no trouble, and now I knew why. Elsa rode in the backseat of my father's police car, behind the fiberglass divider, with an amused expression—probably due to David's amused expression, and the mischievous grin that widened every time David stole a glance at Elsa in his rearview mirror. In a way, even I couldn't help but be slightly amused by the whole scenario.

"Are you all right?" Elsa whispered when she helped me from the front seat in the school parking lot.

"Nervous," I answered, and it wasn't even a lie.

"You are so beautiful," she said.

She looked like she wanted to say more, but David scooted up next to me and put his arm around my shoulders.

"Are you excited?" he asked me.

"More nervous than anything," I admitted.

"Well, it's a big deal, Anna. You're graduating from high school. It's the real world for you now. College, living on your own… You're not my little girl anymore." David choked up a bit at the end.

"Dad," I sighed. "Please don't get weepy on me."

"Who's weepy?" he huffed. "Besides, why can't I be weepy?"

"Because thenI'mgoing to get emotional." I teased. "And I'm already anxious."

"It's a good that Alice is throwing this party. You need something to loosen you up."

"Ah. A party's exactly what I need."

David laughed at my tone and squeezed my shoulders. Elsa looked at the clouds, her face thoughtful.

My father had to leave us at the back door of the gym and go around to the main entrance with the rest of the parents.

It was pandemonium as Ms. Cope from the front office and Mr. Varner the math teacher tried to line everyone up alphabetically.

"Up front, Ms. Cullen," Mr. Varner barked at Elsa.

"Hey, Anna!"

I looked up to see Jeremy waving at me from the back of the line with a smile on his face.

Elsa kissed me quickly, sighed, and went to go stand with the C's. Alice wasn't there. What was she going to do? Skip graduation. Poor timing on my part. I should have waited to figure things out until after this was over with.

"Down here, Anna!" Jeremy called again.

I walked down the line to take my place behind Jeremy, he was nervously fidgeting with a stack of cue cards. As I got closer, I saw Angela five people back, and she waved with a big smile.

Jeremy was taking deep breaths as I slid behind him.

"Oh, god, I'm so nervous, Anna. I can't believe it's here. I feel like screaming."

"So do I," I muttered.

"I'm probably going to puke." He moaned.

"You'll be fine, Jeremy. Don't stress."

"Anna," he spun around and looked at me with a serious expression, "I'm going to miss you so much. I'm going off to California and you'll be all the way in Alaska and I'm like, never going to see you. You have to promise me that we'll get together sometimes, okay? And never stop texting me."

"I promise, Jeremy." I smiled, and I felt a lump forming in my throat.

He didn't say anything else, but I could see tears forming in his eyes. He threw his arms around me and squeezed me tight.

"I'm really glad you moved to Forks, Anna Winters."

"Me too, Jeremy."

And just like that, things were flying by. It all went so quickly. I felt like I'd hit the fast forward button. Were we supposed to march quite that fast? Before I knew it, we were listening to Jeremy's commencement speech.

He stood at the podium, his notes in front of him, and suddenly he didn't look nervous at all. He was poised and confident and radiant.

"When we were five, they asked us what we wanted to be when we grew up. Our answers were things like Astronaut, President, or in my case, a Prince. When we were ten, they asked again. We answered rock star, cowboy, or in my case, a gold medalist. But now that we've grown up, they want a serious answer. Well, how about this… who the hell knows?"

Everyone chuckled, a few of the boys cheered and clapped. He continued.

"This isn't the time to make hard and fast decisions, it's the time to make mistakes. To take the wrong train and get stuck somewhere. Fall in love—a lot. Major in Philosophy because there is no way to make a career out of that. Change your mind and then change it again, because nothing's permanent. So make as many mistakes as you can. That way, someday, when they ask again what we want to be, we won't have to guess. We'll know."

Everyone started applauding and then suddenly, before I could really process everything Jeremy had said, Principal Greene was calling names, one after the other without a long enough pause in-between; the front row in the gymnasium was rushing to catch up. Poor Ms. Cope was all thumbs as she tried to give the principal the right diploma to hand to the right student.

I watched as Alice, suddenly appearing, danced across the stage to take hers, a look of deep concentration on her face. Elsa followed behind, her expression confused, but not upset. Watching them up there, mingled among all the rest of us, I wondered how anyone had ever fallen for their human farce and chuckled to myself.

I heard Mr. Greene call my name and I rose from my chair, waiting for the line in front of me to move. I was conscious of cheering in the back of the gym, and I looked around to see Kristoff pulling David to his feet, both of them hooting in encouragement. I could just make out the top of Billy's head beside Kristoff's elbow. I smiled back at them, and realized as I saw the tears in David's eyes that there were tears in my eyes, too.

Mr. Greene finished with the list of names, and then continued to hand out diplomas with a sheepish grin as we filed past.

"Congratulations, Mr Stanley, well done," he mumbled as Jeremy took his.

"Congratulations, Ms. Winters," he mumbled to me, pressing the diploma into my good hand.

"Thanks," I murmured.

And that was it.

A human experience, had and done.

I went to stand next to Jeremy with the assembled graduates. Jeremy was all red around the eyes, and he kept blotting his face with the sleeve of his robe. I bumped his shoulder with mine encouragingly and he laughed.

Mr. Greene said something I didn't hear, and everyone shouted and screamed. I realized what he had said just in time and pulled my hat off and threw it in the air. Yellow hats rained down everywhere.

"Oh, Anna!" Jeremy threw his harms around me again. "I can't believe we're done."

"I can't believe it either," I said. "And that speech was… kind of perfect."

"You bet your ass it was," he laughed through his tears. "Anna, promise we won't lose touch,"

I hugged him back. "I'm so glad I know you, Jeremy. I promise."

"Jeremy!" A woman's voice called over the crowd; Jeremy's mom was beckoning him over.

"Yikes," Jeremy breathed, "time for the ugly crying with the family." He went to leave, then stopped and looked intently at my face. "Are you okay, Anna?"

"I'm good, Jeremy." I managed to smile. "I'll see you at the party."

He smiled and ran off to his family. I looked around the room, slightly lost and overwhelmed. I caught sight of Angela and Ben, but they were surrounded by their families. I would congratulate them later.

I craned my head, looking for Alice or David.

"Congratulations," Elsa whispered in my ear, her arms wrapped around my waist and she kissed me on the ear.

"Thanks."

"You're crying," she noted.

"Am I?" My hand flew up to my face, and I felt the wetness around my eyes. "I guess I am." I shrugged. "Big day, lots going on."

"Hm," was all she said.

"Hey, where did Alice go?" I asked.

"She ran out as soon as she had her diploma."

Her voice took on a new tone. I looked up to see her confused expression as she stared toward the back door of the gym. Maybe it was my emotions getting the better of me, but I just started talking without really thinking.

"Worrying about Alice?" I asked.

"Er…" She didn't want to answer that.

"What was she thinking about, anyway? To keep you out, I mean."

Her eyes flashed down to my face, and narrowed in suspicion. "She was translating the Battle Hymn of the Republic into Arabic, actually. When she finished that she moved on to Korean sign language."

I laughed nervously. "I suppose thatwouldkeep her head busy enough."

"You know what she's hiding from me," she accused.

"Sure." I smiled a weak smile. "I'm the one who came up with it."

She waited, confused.

I looked around again for David, he should be making his way over by now.

"Okay, knowing Alice," I whispered in a rush, "she'll probably try to keep this from you until after the party. But I'm going to trust you to not go berserk about this, okay? It's always better to know as much as possible. It has to help somehow."

"What are you talking about?"

I saw David's head bob up over the heads as he searched for me. He spotted me and waved, I waved back.

"Just stay calm, okay?"

She nodded once, her mouth a grim line.

In hurried whispers I explained my reasoning to her. "I think you're wrong about things coming at us from all sides. I think it's mostly coming at us from one side… and I think it's coming at me, really. It's all connected, it has to be. It's just one person who's messing with Alice's visions. The stranger in my room was a test, to see if someone could get around her. It's got to be the same one who keeps changing her mind, and the newborns, and stealing my clothes—all of it goes together. My scent is for them."

Her face had turned so white that I had a hard time finishing.

"I'm only telling you this so you can think about what are next plan of action is, okay? Your family is safe, we just have to worry about me… as always."

Her eyes were huge, wide with panic, dazed and horrified. She could see that I was right, just as Alice had.

I put my hand on her cheek. "Calm," I pleaded.

"Anna!" David crowed, pushing his way past the close-packed families around us.

"Congratulations, kiddo!" He was still yelling in excitement. He wrapped his arms around me and squeezed me tight.

"Thanks, Dad," I smiled, keeping an eye on Elsa's face. She still hadn't gained control of her expression. Her hands were halfway extended toward me, like she was about to grab me and make a run for it. I threw a pleading look at Elsa.

"Kristoff and Billy had to take off—did you see that they were here?" David asked, taking a step back, but keeping his hands on my shoulders. I was grateful that he had his back to Elsa, so he couldn't see the awful expression on her face. Elsa's mouth was hanging open, her eyes still wide with dread.

"Yeah," I assured my father, smiling. "Heard them, too."

"It was nice of them to show up," David said.

"It was."

Okay, so telling Elsa had been a really bad idea. Alice was right to keep her thoughts clouded. I should have waited till we were alone somewhere, maybe with the rest of her family. And nothing breakable close by—like windows…cars…school buildings. Her face brought back all my fear and then some. Though her expression was past the fear now—it was pure fury that was suddenly plain on her, features.

"So where do you want to go out for dinner?" David asked. "The sky's the limit."

This snapped me back into focus. "Go out? Dad, I can just cook."

"Don't be silly. Do you want to go to the Lodge?" he asked with an eager smile.

I neither liked nor disliked David's favorite restaurant, but I wanted David to be happy, and I wasn't sure if I'd have much of an appetite to eat, anyway.

"Sure, the Lodge is good," I said.

David smiled wider, and then he turned slightly toward Elsa.

"Are you joining us, Elsa?"

I stared at her, my eyes beseeching. Elsa pulled her expression together just before David had turned to completely face her.

"No, thank you," Elsa said stiffly, her face hard and cold.

"Do you have plans with your parents?" David asked, clearly taken aback by Elsa's sudden hostility.

"Yes. If you'll excuse me…" Elsa turned abruptly and stalked away through the dwindling crowd. She moved just a little bit too fast, too upset to keep up her usually perfect charade.

"What did I say?" David asked with a guilty expression.

"Don't worry about it, Dad," I reassured him. "It wasn't anything you did."

"You two aren't fighting are you?"

"No, no fighting. Maybe she's just upset at seeing Kristoff again after what happened the other day," I managed to lie rather convincingly, especially for me.

"I suppose I can't fault her for that." David mumbled.

"Let's go eat, okay?"

The Lodge was crowded. The place was, in my opinion, a little overpriced and slightly tacky, but it was the only thing close to a formal restaurant in town, so it was always popular for events. I fidgeted in my seat while David ate prime rib and talked over the back of the seat to Tyler Crowley's parents. It was noisy—everyone there had just come from graduation, and most were chatting across the aisles and over the booth-tops like David.

I had my back to the front windows, and I resisted the urge to turn around and search for the eyes I could feel on me now. I knew I wouldn't be able to see anything. Just as I knew there was no chance that she would leave me unguarded, even for a second. Not after this.

Dinner seemed to drag. David, busy socializing, ate slowly. At least I managed to work up a bit of an appetite, I ate small pieces of my burger bit by bit. It all seemed to take a very long time, but when I looked at the clock—which I did more often than necessary—the hands hadn't moved much.

Finally David got his change back and put a tip on the table. I stood up a bit too quickly.

"In a hurry?" he asked me.

"Er, I just wanted to help Alice set things up," I claimed.

"Okay, kiddo." He turned away from me to say goodnight to everyone. I waved and went out to wait by the cruiser.

I leaned against the passenger door, waiting for David, and trying to center myself. It was almost dark in the parking lot, the clouds so thick that there was no telling if the sun had set or not. The hair felt heavy, like it was about to rain.

Something moved in the shadows.

My gasp turned to a sigh of relief as Elsa appeared out of the gloom.

Without a word, she pulled me tightly against her chest. One cool hand found my chin, and pulled my face up so that she could press her hard lips to mine. I could feel the tension in her jaw.

"How are you?" I asked as soon as she let me breathe.

"Not so great," she murmured. "But I've got a handle on myself. I'm sorry that I lost it back there."

"I'm sorry. I should have waited to tell you."

"No," she disagreed. "This is something I needed to know. I can't believe I didn't see it!"

"You've got a lot on your mind."

"And you don't?"

She suddenly kissed me again, not letting me answer. She pulled away after just a second. "David's on his way."

"I'll have him drop me at your house."

"I'll follow you there."

"That's not really necessary," I tried to say, but she was already gone.

"Anna?" David called from the doorway of the restaurant, squinting into the darkness.

"I'm out here."

David sauntered to the car, muttering about impatience.

"So how do you feel?" he asked me as we drove north along the highway. "It's been a big day."

"I feel okay," I lied.

He laughed, seeing through me easily. "Worried about the party?" he guessed.

"Yeah," I said, and I realized it wasn't entirely a lie.

"You were never one for parties."

"Wonder where I got that from," I raised an eyebrow at him.

David chuckled. "Well, you look great. I wish I'd thought to get you something. Sorry."

"Don't be silly, Dad. You got me dinner, and it was great. Thank you."

"You're welcome, kiddo. But it's not silly. I feel like I don't always do everything for you that I should."

"That's ridiculous. You do a fantastic job. You're…" I felt a lump forming in my throat, caught off guard by my emotions. I tried clearing my throat to continue. "You're really the best dad ever… and I'm… I'm really glad I came to live with you, Dad. It was the best idea I ever had." I cleared my throat again and tried to lighten my voice. "So don't worry—you're just experiencing post-graduation pessimism."

He snorted, but I could see the tears in the corners of his eyes. "Maybe." Then he cleared his throat. "Well, I'm sure I've slipped up in a few places. I mean, look at your hand!"

I stared down blankly at my hands. My left hand rested lightly on the dark brace I rarely thought about. My sprained knuckle didn't hurt much anymore.

"I never thought I needed to teach you how to throw a punch. Guess I was wrong about that."

"It's alright, I probably did something wrong."

"Anna, if someone kisses you without your permission, you should be able to make your feelings clear without hurting yourself. You didn't keep your thumb inside your fist, did you?"

"No, Dad. I appreciate the idea, but I don't think lessons would have helped. Kristoff's head isreallyhard."

David laughed. "Hit him in the gut if he tries again."

"After the punch didn't work I just kneed him in the… well, you know…" I shrugged. "I think that got my message across pretty good."

"You—" David didn't finish, he was laughing so hard the car swerved a little.

"Careful, Dad!" I admonished, laughing a little myself.

"Anna," he chuckled, "I don't know why I worried." He sighed. "But try not to be too hard on Kristoff. He's… young."

"He's obnoxious."

"He's still your friend."

"I know." I sighed. "I don't really know what the right thing to do here is, Dad."

David nodded slowly. "Yeah. The right thing isn't always real obvious. Sometimes the right thing for one person is the wrong thing for someone else. I can't tell you what the answer is. I wish I could… but, in the end, you have to do what's best for you. Not what makes everyone else happy, you know?"

I thought about what he said for moment. "Thanks, Dad. Really."

He nodded, then frowned. "Hey, if this party gets too wild…," he began.

"Don't worry, Dad. Carlisle and Esme are going to be there. I'm sure you can come, too, if you want."

David grimaced as he squinted though the windshield into the night. David enjoyed a good party just about as much as I did.

"Where's the turnoff, again?" he asked. "They ought to clear out their drive—it's impossible to find in the dark."

"Just around the next bend, I think." I pursed my lips. "You know, you're right—it is impossible to find. Alice said she put a map in the invitation, but even so, maybe everyone will get lost." I cheered slightly at the idea.

"Maybe," David said as the road curved to the east. "Or… maybe not."

The black velvet darkness was interrupted ahead, just where the Cullens' drive should be. Someone had wrapped the trees on either side in thousands of twinkle lights, impossible to miss.

"Damn it, Alice," I said sourly.

"Wow," David said as we turned onto the drive. The two trees at the entry weren't the only ones lit. Every twenty feet or so, another shining beacon guided us toward the big white house. All the way—all three miles of the way.

"She doesn't do things halfway, does she?" David mumbled in awe.

"Sure you don't want to come in?"

"Extremely sure. Have fun, kid."

"Thanks, Dad."

He was laughing to himself as I got out and shut the door. I waved goodbye as he drove away, still grinning. I took a deep breath, put on my best face, and marched up the stairs to endure my party.


	18. alliance

"Anna?"

Elsa's soft voice came from behind me. I turned to see her spring lightly up the porch steps, her hair windblown from running. She pulled me into her arms at once, just like she had in the parking lot, and kissed me gain.

This kiss frightened me. There was too much tension, too strong an edge to the way her lips crushed mine—like she was afraid we only had so much time left to us.

I couldn't let myself think about that. Not if I was going to have to act human for the next several hours. I pulled away from her.

"Let's get this damn party over with," I mumbled, not meeting her eyes.

She put her hands on either side of my face, waiting until I looked up.

"I won't let anything happen to you."

I touched her lips with the fingers of my good hand. "I'm not just worried about myself."

"Why am I not surprised by that?" she muttered to herself. She took a deep breath, and then she smiled slightly. "Ready to celebrate?" she asked.

"Ready as I'll ever be."

She held the door for me, keeping her arm securely around my waist. I stood frozen there for a minute, then I slowly shook my head.

"Oh. My. God."

Elsa shrugged. "Alice will be Alice."

The interior of the Cullens' home had been transformed into a nightclub—the kind that didn't often exist in real life, only on TV.

"Elsa!" Alice called from beside a gigantic speaker. "I need your advice." She gestured toward a laptop connected to the speaker. "Should we give them familiar and comforting? Or educate their taste in music?"

"Keep it comforting," Elsa recommended. "You can only lead the hourse to water."

Alice nodded seriously, and started working on the laptop—most likely making a playlist. I noticed that she had changed into a sequined tank top and black leather pants. Her bare skin reacted oddly to the pulsing red and purple lights.

"I think I'm underdressed."

"You're perfect," Elsa disagreed.

"How dare you question the outfit I picked for you," Alice glared.

"Sorry, sorry." I sighed. "Do you really think people will come?" Anyone could hear the hope in my voice. Alice made another face at me.

"Everyone will come," Elsa answered. "They're all dying to see the inside of the reclusive Cullens' mystery house."

"Fabulous," I moaned.

There wasn't anything I could do to help. I doubted that—even if I didn't need sleep or moved at a much faster speed—I would ever be able to get things done the way Alice did.

Elsa refused to let me go for a second, dragging me along with her as she hunted up Jasper and then Carlisle to tell them of my epiphany. I listened with quiet horror as they discussed their attack on the army in Seattle. I could tell that Jasper was not pleased with the way the numbers stood, but they'd been unable to contact anyone besides Taras's unwilling family. Jasper didn't try to hide his desperation the way Elsa would have. It was easy to see that he didn't like gambling with stakes this high.

I couldn't stay behind, waiting and hoping for them to come home. I would go mad.

The doorbell rang.

All at once, everything was surreally normal. A perfect smile, genuine and warm, replaced the stress on Carlisle's face. Alice turned the volume of the music up, and then danced to get the door.

It was a Suburban-load of my friends, either too nervous or too intimidated to arrive on their own. Jeremy was the first one in the door, with Makayla right behind him. Tyler, Conner, Austin, Lee, Samantha, Lauren… even Logan trailing in last, his critical eyes already alight with curiosity. They all were curious, and then overwhelmed as they took in the huge room decked out like a chic rave. The room wasn't empty; all the Cullens had taken their places, ready to put on their usual perfect human charade. Tonight I felt like I was acting every bit as much as they were.

I went to greet Jeremy and Makayla, hoping the edge in my voice sounded like the right kind of excitement. Before I could get to anyone else, the bell rang again. I let Angela and Ben in, leaving the door wide, because Eric and Katie were just reaching the steps.

I didn't get another chance to panic. I had to talk to everyone, concentrate on being upbeat, a host. Though the party had been billed as a joint even for Alice, Elsa, and me, there was no denying that I was the most popular target for congratulations and thanks. Maybe because the Cullens looked just slightly wrong under Alice's party lights. Maybe because those lights left the room dim and mysterious. Not an atmosphere to make your average human feel relaxed when standing next to someone like Emmett. I saw Emmett grin at Makayla over the food table, the red lights gleaming off his teeth, and watched Makayla take an automatic step back.

Probably Alice had done this on purpose, to force me into the center of attention—a place she thought I should enjoy more. She was forever trying to make me be human the way she thought humans should be.

The party was a clear success, despite the instinctive edginess caused by the Cullens' presence—or maybe that simply added to the thrill of the atmosphere. The music was infectious, the lights almost hypnotic. From the way the food disappeared, that must have been good, too. The room was soon crowded, though never claustrophobic. The entire senior class seemed to be there, along with most of the juniors. Bodies swayed to the beat that rumbled under the soles of their feet, the party constantly on the edge of breaking into a dance.

It wasn't as hard as I'd thought it would be. I followed Alice's lead, mingling and chatting for a minute with everyone. They seemed easy enough to please. I was sure this party was far cooler than anything the town of Forks had experienced before. Alice was almost purring—no one here would forget this night.

I'd circled the room once, and was back to Jeremy. We talked animatedly about the party. He was thrilled by the entire thing, and I smiled at his enthusiasm. Elsa was at my side—still refusing to let go of me. She kept one hand securely at my waist, pulling me closer now and then in response to thoughts I probably didn't want to hear.

So I was immediately suspicious when she dropped her arm and edged away from me.

"Stay here," she murmured in my ear. "I'll be right back."

She passed gracefully though the crowd without seeming to touch any of the close-packed bodies, gone too quickly for me to ask why she was leaving. I stared after her with narrowed eyes while Jeremy shouted over the music eagerly, hanging on to my elbow, not noticing my distraction.

I watched her as she reached the dark shadow beside the kitchen doorway, where the lights only shone intermittently. She was leaning over someone, but I couldn't see past all the heads between us.

I stretched up on my toes, craning my neck. Right then, a red light flashed across her back and glinted off the red sequins of Alice's shirt. The light only touched her face for half a second, but it was enough.

"Excuse me for a minute, Jeremy, I'm so sorry," I mumbled.

She nodded her head and smiled as I turned and hurried away.

I ducked my head through the bodies, getting shoved around a bit. A few people were dancing now. I hurried to the kitchen door.

Elsa was gone, but Alice was still there in the dark, her face blank—the kind of expressionless look you see on the face of someone who has just witnessed a horrible accident. One of her hands gripped the door frame, like she needed the support.

"What, Alice, what? What did you see?" My hands hovered over her shoulders, like I could somehow help.

She didn't look at me, she was staring away. I followed her gaze and watched as she caught Elsa's eye across the room. Her face was empty as a stone. She turned and disappeared into the shadows under the stair.

The doorbell rang just then, hours after the last time, and Alice looked up with a puzzled expression that quickly turned into one of disgust.

"Who invited the werewolf?" she griped at me.

I scowled. "Guilty."

I thought I'd rescinded that invitation—not that I'd ever dreamed Kristoff would comehere, regardless.

"Well, you go take care of it, then. I have to talk to Carlisle."

"No, Alice, wait!" I tried to put my hands on her shoulders, but she was gone and my hands clutched the empty air.

"Damn it!" I grumbled.

I knew this was it. Alice had seen what she'd been waiting for, and I honestly didn't feel like I could stand the suspense long enough to answer the door. The doorbell peeled again, too long, someone holding down the button. I turned my back toward the door resolutely, and scanned the darkened room for Alice.

I couldn't see anything. I started pushing for the stairs.

"Hey, Anna!"

Kristoff's deep voice caught a lull in the music, and I looked up in spite of myself at the sound of my name.

I made a face.

It wasn't just one werewolf, it was three. Kristoff had let himself in, flanked on either side by Quil and Sven. The two of them looked terribly tense, their eyes flickering around the room like they'd just walked into a haunted crypt. Sven's trembling hand still held the door, his body half-turned to run for it.

Kristoff was waving at me, calmer than the others, though his nose was wrinkled in disgust. I waved back—waved goodbye—and turned to look for Alice. I squeezed through a space between Conner's and Lauren's backs.

He came out of nowhere, his hand on my shoulder pulling me back towards the shadow by the kitchen. I ducked under his grip, but he caught my good wrist and tugged me from the crowd.

"Friendly reception," he noted.

I pulled my hand free and scowled at him. "What are youdoinghere?"

"You invited me, remember?"

"Was my right hook too subtle for you? Or the knee? If they were, let me translate: That was meuninviting you."

"Come on, Anna, don't be like that. I brought you a graduation present and everything."

I folded my arms across my chest. I didn't want to fight with Kristoff right now. I wanted to know what Alice had seen and what Elsa and Carlisle were saying about it. I craned my head around Kristoff, searching for them.

"Take it back to the store, Kristoff. I've got to do something…"

He stepped into my line of sight, demanding my attention.

"I can't take it back. I didn't get it from the store—I made it myself. Took a really long time, too."

I leaned around him again, but I couldn't see any of the Cullens. Where had they gone? My eyes scanned the darkened room.

"Oh, c'mon, babe. Don't pretend like I'm not here!"

"I'm not, Kristoff." I couldn't see them anywhere. "Look, Kristoff, I've got a lot a mind right now."

He put his under my chin to stop me from looking around. "Could I please have just a few seconds of your undivided attention, Ms. Winters?"

I jerked away from his touch. "Keep your hands to yourself, Kristoff," I hissed.

"Sorry!" he said at once, holding his hands up in surrender. "I really am sorry. About the other day, I mean, too. I shouldn't of kissed you like that. It was wrong. I guess… well, I guess I deluded myself into thinking you wanted me to."

"Deluded sounds pretty accurate."

"Please, Anna. I'm really apologizing here. I feel really bad about the whole thing. I do."

"Okay, Kristoff, fine. Apology accepted. Now, if you'll just excuse me for a moment…"

"Okay," he mumbled, and his voice was so different from before that I stopped searching for Alice and scrutinized his face. He was staring at the floor, hiding his eyes. His lower lip jutted out a little bit.

"I guess you'd rather be with yourrealfriends," he said in the same defeated tone. "I get it. I really messed up this time."

I sighed. "Aw, Kristoff, come on…"

I leaned forward, peering up, trying to look into his eyes. He looked up then, over my head, avoiding my gaze.

"Kristoff?"

He refused to look at me.

"Hey, you said you made me something, right?" I asked. "Was that just talk? Where's my present?" My attempt to fake enthusiasm was pretty sad, but it worked. He rolled his eyes and then grimaced at me.

I kept up the lame pretense, holding my hand open in front of me. "I'm waiting."

"Right," he grumbled sarcastically. But he also reached into the back pocket of his jeans and pulled out a small bag of loose-woven, multi-colored fabric. It was tied shut with leather drawstring. He set it on my palm.

"Hey, that's pretty, Kristoff. Thanks!"

He sighed. "The present isinside, Anna."

"Oh."

I had some trouble with the strings. He sighed again and took it from me, sliding the ties open with one easy tug of the right cord. I held my hand out for it, but he turned the bag upside down and shook something long and silver into my hand. Metal links clinked quietly against each other.

"I didn't make the necklace," he admitted. "Just the charm."

Attached to the long silver chain was a tiny wooden carving. I held it between my fingers to look at it closer. It was amazing the amount of detail involved in the little figurine—the miniature wolf was utterly realistic. It was even carved out of some red-brown wood that matched the color of his skin.

"It's beautiful," I whispered. "Youmadethis? How?"

He shrugged. "It's something Billy taught me. He's better at it than I am."

"That's hard to believe," I murmured, turning the tiny wolf around and around in my fingers.

"Do you really like it?"

"Yes! It's unbelievable, Kristoff."

He smiled, happily at first, but then the expression soured. "Well, I figured that maybe it would make you remember me once in a while. You know how it is, out of sight, out of mind."

I ignored the attitude. "Here, help me put it on."

I handed the necklace to him and turned around. He put it around my neck and fastened the clasp easily, though it looked too delicate for his big fingers to manage.

"I figured you'd like a necklace more than a bracelet." He said. "You'll wear it?"

"Of course I will." I said as I turned back to face him.

He grinned at me—it was the happy smile that I loved to see him wear.

I returned it for a moment, but then a flash of lights distracted me and my eyes shot reflexively around the room again, imagining I had seen Elsa or Alice.

"Why're you so distracted?" Kristoff wondered.

"It's nothing," I lied, trying to force my eyes back to him. "Thank you for the present, Kristoff, really. I love it."

"Anna?" His brows pulled together, throwing his eyes deep into their shadow. "Something's going on, isn't it?"

"Kristoff, I… no, there's nothing."

"Don't lie to me, you suck at lying. You should tell me what's going on. We want to know these things," he said, slipping into the plural at the end.

He was probably right; the wolves would certainly be interested in what was happening. Only I wasn't sure what thatwasyet. I wouldn't know for sure until I found Alice.

"Kristoff, I will tell you, I promise. Just letmefigure out what's happening, okay? I need to talk to Alice."

Understanding lit his expression. "The psychic saw something."

"Yes, just when you showed up."

"Is this about the bloodsucker in your room?" he murmured, pitching his voice below the thrum of the music.

"It's related," I admitted.

He processed that for a minute, leaning his head to one side while he read my face. "You know something you're not telling me… somethingbig."

What was the point in lying again? He knew me too well. "Yes."

Kristoff stared at me for one short moment, and then he turned to catch his pack brothers' eyes where they stood in the entry, awkward and uncomfortable. When they took in his expression, they started moving, weaving their way agilely through the partiers, almost like they were dancing, too. In half a minute, they stood on either side of Kristoff, towering over me.

"Now. Explain." Kristoff demanded.

Sven and Quil looked back and forth between our faces, confused and wary.

"Kristoff, I don't know everything."

"What youdoknow, then."

They all folded their arms across their chests at exactly the same moment. It was a little bit funny, but mostly menacing.

And then I caught sight of Alice descending the stairs, her white skin glowing in the purple light.

"Alice!" I squeaked in relief.

She looked right at me as soon as I called her name, despite the thudding bass that should have drowned my voice. I waved eagerly, and watched her face as she took in the three werewolves leaning over me. Her eyes narrowed.

But, before that reaction, her face was full of stress and fear. I bit my lip as she skipped to my side.

Kristoff, Quil, and Sven all leaned away from her with uneasy expressions. She put her arm around my waist.

"I need to talk to you," she murmured into my ear.

"Er, Kristoff, I'll talk to you later, ok?" I mumbled as we eased around them.

Kristoff threw his long arm out to block our way, bracing his hand against the wall. "Hey, not so fast."

Alice stared up at him, eyes wide and incredulous. "Excuse me?"

"Tell us what's going on," he demanded in a growl.

Jasper appeared quite literally out of nowhere. One second it was just Alice and me against the wall, Kristoff blocking our exit, and then Jasper was standing on the other side of Kristoff's arm, his expression terrifying.

Kristoff slowly pulled his arm back. It seemed like the best move, going with the assumption that he wanted to keep that arm.

"We have a right to know," Kristoff muttered, still glaring at Alice.

Jasper stepped in between them, and the three werewolves braced themselves.

"Hey, hey," I said, my voice scolding. "This is a party, remember?"

They all relaxed slightly, but Kristoff continued to glare at Alice while Jasper glowered at Kristoff. Alice's was suddenly thoughtful.

"It's okay, Jasper. He actually has a point."

Jasper didn't move.

I was sure the suspense was going to make my head explode in about one second. "What did you see, Alice?"

She stared at Kristoff for one second, and then turned to me, evidently having chosen to let them hear.

"The decision's been made."

"You're going to Seattle?"

"No."

I felt the color drain out of my face. My stomach lurched. "They're coming here," I choke out.

The Quileute boys watched silently, reading every unconscious play of emotion on our faces. They were rooted in place, and yet not completely still. All three pairs of hands were trembling.

"Yes."

"To Forks," I whispered.

"For?"

She nodded, understanding my question. "One carried your red shirt."

I tried to swallow.

Jasper's expression was disapproving. I could tell he didn't like discussing this in front of the werewolves, but he had something he needed to say. "We can't let them come that far. There aren't enough of us to protect the town."

"I know," Alice said, her face suddenly desolate. "But it doesn't matter where we stop them. There still won't be enough of us, and some of them will come here to search."

"No!" I whispered.

The noise of the party overwhelmed the sound of my denial. All around us, my friends and neighbors ate and laughed and swayed to the music, oblivious to the fact that they were about to face horror, danger, maybe death. Because of me.

"Alice," I mouthed her name. "I have to go, I have to get away from here."

"That won't help. It's not like we're dealing with a tracker. They'll still come looking here first."

"We have to do something, Alice!" My voice was hoarse and strained. "Maybe go to meet them? Something!Anythingto keep them from coming here."

"Anna!" alice protested.

"Hold it," Kristoff ordered in a low, forceful voice. "Whatis coming?"

Alice turned her icy gaze on him. "Our kind. Lots of them."

"Why?"

"For Anna. That's all we know."

"There are too many for you?" he asked.

Jasper bridled. "We have a few advantages, dog. It will be an even fight."

"No," Kristoff said, and a strange, fierce half-smile spread across his face. "It won't beeven."

"Excellent!" Alice hissed.

I stared, still frozen in horror, at Alice's new expression. Her face was alive with exultation, all the despair wiped clean from her perfect features.

She grinned at Kristoff, and he grinned back.

"Everything just disappeared, of course," she told him in a smug voice. "That's inconvenient, but, all things considered, I'll take it."

"We'll have to coordinate," Kristoff said. "It won't be easy for us. Still, this is our job more than yours."

"I wouldn't go that far, but we need the help. We aren't going to picky."

"Wait, wait, wait, wait," I interrupted them.

Alice was on her toes, Kristoff leaning down toward her, both of their faces lit up with excitement, both of their noses wrinkled against the smell. They looked at me impatiently.

"Coordinate?" I repeated through my teeth.

"You didn't honestly think you were going to keep us out of this?" Kristoff asked.

"Youarestaying out of this!"

"Your psychic doesn't think so."

"Alice—Kristoff… No. Just—no!" I insisted. "I don't want anyone to get killed!"

Kristoff, Quil, and Sven, all laughed out loud.

"Anna," Alice said, her voice soothing, placating, "separately we all could get killed. Together—"

"It'll be no problem," Kristoff finished her sentence. Quil laughed again.

"How many?" Quil asked eagerly.

"No!" I shouted.

Alice didn't even look at me. "It changes—twenty-one today, but the numbers are going down."

"Why?" Kristoff asked, curious.

"Long story," Alice said, suddenly looking around the room. "And this isn't the place for it."

"Later tonight?" Kristoff pushed.

"Yes," Jasper answered him. "We were already planning a… strategic meeting. If you're going to fight with us, you'll need some instruction."

The wolves all made a disgruntled face at the last part.

"Is no one listening to me?" I moaned.

"This will be odd," Jasper said thoughtfully, ignoring me. "I never considered working together. This has to be a first."

"No doubt about that," Kristoff agreed. He was in a hurry now. "We've got to get back to Sam. What time?"

"What's too late for you?"

All three rolled their eyes. "What time?" Kristoff repeated.

"Three o'clock?"

"Where?"

"About ten miles due north of the Hoh Forest ranger station. Come at it from the west and you'll be able to follow our scent in."

"We'll be there."

They turned to leave.

"Wait, Kristoff!" I called after him. "Please!Don't do this!"

He paused, turning back to grin at me, while Quil and Sven headed impatiently for the door. "Don't be ridiculous, babe. You're giving me a much better gift than the one I gave you."

"No!" I shouted again. The sound of an electric guitar drowned my cry.

He didn't respond; he hurried to catch up with his friends, who were already gone. I watched helplessly as Kristoff disappeared.


	19. instruction

"That had to be the longest party in the history of the world," I groaned on the way home.

Elsa didn't seem to disagree. "It's over now," she said, rubbing my arm soothingly.

Because I was the only one who needed soothing. Elsa was fine now—all the Cullens were fine.

They'd all reassured me; Alice reaching up to pat my head as I left, eyeing Jasper meaningfully until a flood of peace swirled around me, Esme kissing my forhead and promising me everything was all right, Emmett laughing boisterously and asking why I was the only one who was allowed to fight with werewolves… Kristoff's solution had them all relaxed, almost euphoric after the long weeks of stress. Doubt had been replaced with confidence. The party had ended on a note of true celebration.

Not for me.

Bad enough—horrible—that the Cullens would fight for me. It was already too much that I would have to allow that. It already felt like more than I could bear.

Not Kristoff, too. Not his foolish, eager brothers—most of them even younger than I was. They were just oversized, over-muscled children, and they looked forward to this like it was picnic on the beach. I could not have them in danger, too. My nerves felt frayed and exposed. I didn't know how much longer I could restrain the urge to scream out loud.

I whispered now, to keep my voice under control. "You're taking me with you tonight."

"Anna, you're worn out."

"You think I could sleep?"

She frowned. "It's an experiement. I'm not sure if it will be possible for us all to… cooperate. I don't want you in the middle of that."

I laughed once. "As if that doesn't make me all the more anxious to go." When she didn't respond I sighed. "If you won't take me, then I'll call Kristoff."

Her eyes tightened. That was a low blow, and I knew it. But there was no way I was being left behind.

She still didn't answer; we were at my house now. The front light was on.

"See you upstairs," I muttered.

I tiptoed in the front door. David was asleep in the living room, sprawled out on the too-small sofa, and snoring so loudly I could have ripped a chainsaw to life and it wouldn't have wakened him.

I shook his shoulder vigorously.

"Dad! David!"

He grumbled, eyes still closed.

"I'm home now—you're going to hurt your back sleeping like that. C'mon, time to move."

It took a few more shakes, and his eyes never did open all the way, but I managed to get him off the couch. I helped him up to his bed, where he collapsed on top of the covers, fully dressed, and started snoring again.

He wasn't going to be looking for me anytime soon.

Elsa waited in my room while I washed my face and changed into jeans and a flannel shirt. She watched me unhappily from the rocking chair as I hung the outfit Alice had given me in my closet.

"Come here," I said, taking her hand and pulling her to my bed.

I pushed her down on the bed and then curled up against her chest. Maybe she was right and Iwastired enough to sleep. I wasn't going to let her sneak off without me.

She tucked my quilt in around me, and then held me close.

"Please relax."

"Sure."

"This is going to work, Anna. I can feel it."

My teeth locked together.

She was radiating relief. Nobody but me cared if Kristoff and his friends got hurt. Not even Kristoff and his friends. Especially not them.

She could tell I was on the edge. "Listen to me, Anna. This is going to beeasy. The newborns will be completely taken by surprise. They'll have no more idea that werewolves exist than you did. I've seen how they act in a group, the way Jasper remembers. I truly believe the wolves' hunting techniques will work flawlessly against them. And with them divided and confused, there won't be enough for the rest of us to do. Somebody may have to sit out," she teased.

"Piece of cake," I mumbled tonelessly against her chest.

"Shh," she stroked my cheek. "You'll see. Don't worry now."

She started humming my lullaby, but, for once, it didn't calm me.

People—well, vampires and werewolves really, but still—people I loved were going to get hurt. Hurt because of me. Again. I wished my bad luck would focus a little more carefully. I felt like yelling up at the empty sky;It's me you want—over here! Just me!

I tried to think of a way that I could do exactly that—force my bad luck to focus on me. It wouldn't be easy, I was sure, but there had to be a way. I'd have to think on it in the little time I had left.

I did not fall asleep. The minutes passed quickly, to my surprise, and I was still alert and tense when Elsa pulled us both up into a sitting position.

"Are you sure you don't want to stay and sleep?"

I raised one annoyed eyebrow.

She sighed, and scooped me up in her arms before she jumped from the window.

She raced through the black, quiet forest with me on her back, and even in her run I could feel the elation. She ran the way she did when it was just us, just for enjoyment, just for the feel of the wind in her, hair. It was the kind of thing that, during less anxious times, would have made me happy.

When we got to the big open field, her family was there, talking casually, relaxed. Emmett's booming laugh echoed through the wide space now and then. Elsa sat me down and we walked hand in hand toward them.

It took me a minute, because it was so dark with the moon hidden behind the clouds, but I realized that we were in the baseball clearing. It was the same place where, more than a year ago, that first lighthearted evening with the Cullens had been interrupted by Hans, and his coven. It felt strange to be here again—as if this gathering wouldn't be complete until Hans and Laurent and Gerda joined us. But Hans and Laurent were never coming back. That pattern wouldn't be repeated. Maybe all the patterns were broken.

Yet someone had broken out of their pattern. Was it possible the Volturi were the flexibles ones in this equation?

I doubted it.

Gerda had always seemed like a force of nature to me—like a hurricane moving toward the coast in a straight line—unavoidable, implacable, but predictable. Maybe it was wrong to limit her that way. She had to be capable of adaption.

"You know what I think?" I asked Elsa.

She laughed. "No."

I almost smiled.

"What do you think?"

"I think it'sallconnected. Not just the two, but all three."

"You've lost me, love."

"Three bad things have happened since you came back." I ticked them off on my fingers. "The newborns in Seattle. The stranger in my room. And—first of all—Gerda came to look for me."

Her eyes narrowed as she thought about it. "Why do you think so?"

"Because I agree with Jasper—the Volturi love their rules. They would probably do a better job anyway." And I'd be dead if they wanted me dead, I added mentally. "Remember when you were tracking Gerda last year?"

"Yes." She frowned. "I wasn't very good at it."

"Alice said you were in Texas. Did you follow Gerda there?"

Her eyebrows pulled together. "Yes. Hmm…"

"See—she could have gotten the idea there. But she doesn't know what she's doing, so the newborns are all out of control."

She started shaking her head. "Only Aro knows exactly how Alice's visions work."

"Aro would knowbest, but wouldn't Taras and Ivan and the rest of your friends in Denali knowenough? Laurent lived with them for so long. And if he was still friendly enough with Gerda to be doing favors for her, why wouldn't he also tell her everything he knew?"

Elsa frowned. "It wasn't Gerda in your room."

"She can't make new friends? Think about it, Elsa. If itisGerda doing this in Seattle, she'smadea lot of new friends. She's created them."

She considered it, her forehead creased in concentration.

"Hmm," she finally said. "It's possible. I still think the Volturi are the most likely… but your theory—there's something there. Gerda's personality. Your theory suits her personality perfectly. She's shown a remarkable gift for self-preservation from the start—maybe it's a talent of hers. In any case, this plot would put her in no danger at all from us, if she sits safely behind and lets the newborns wreak their havoc here. And maybe little danger from the Volturi, either. Perhaps she's counting on us to win, in the end, though certainly not without heavy casualities of our own. But no survivors from her little army to bear witness against her. In fact," she continued, thinking it through, "if there were survivors, I'd bet she'd be planning to destroy them herself… Hmm. Still, she'd have to have at least one friend who was a bit more mature. No fresh-made newborn left your father alive…"

She frowned into space for a long moment, and then suddenly smiled at me, coming back from her reverie. "Definitely possible. Regardless, we've got to be prepared for anything until we know for sure. You're very perceptive today," she added. "It's impressive."

I sighed. "Maybe I'm just reacting to this place. It makes me feel like she's close by… like she sees me now."

Her jaw muscles tensed at the idea. "She'll never touch you, Anna," she said.

In spit of her words, her eyes swept carefully across the dark trees. While she searched their shadows, the strangest expression across her face. Her lips pulled back over her teeth and her eyes shone with an odd light—a wild, fierce kind of hope.

"Yet, what I wouldn't give to have her that close," she murmured. "Gerda, and anyone else who's ever thought of hurting you. To have the chance to end this myself. To finish it with my own hands this time."

I shuddered at the ferocious longing in her voice, and clenched my fingers more tightly with mine, wishing I was strong enough to lock our hands together permanently.

We were almost to her family, and I noticed for the first time that Alice did not look as optimistic as the others. She stood a little aside, watching Jasper stretching his arms as if he were warming up to exercise, her lips pushed out in a pout.

"Is something wrong with Alice?" I whispered.

Elsa chuckled, herself again. "The werewolves are on their way, so she can't see anything that will happen now. It makes her uncomfortable to be blind."

Alice, though farthest away from us, heard her low voice. She looked up and stuck her tongue out at her. She laughed again.

"Hey, Elsa," Emmett greeted her. "Hey, Anna. Is she going to let you practice, too?"

Elsa groaned at her brother. "Please, Emmett, don't give her any ideas."

"When will our guests arrive?" Carlisle asked Elsa.

Elsa concentrated for a moment, and then sighed. "A minute and a half. But I'm going to have to translate. They don't trust us enough to use their human forms."

Carlisle nodded. "This is hard for them. I'm grateful they're coming at all."

I stared at Elsa, my eyes wide. "They're coming as wolves?"

She nodded, cautious of my reaction. I swallowed once, remembering the two times I'd seen Kristoff in his wolf form—the first time in the meadow with Laurent, the second time on the forest lane where Paul had gotten angry at me… they were both memories of terror.

A strange gleam came into Elsa's eyes, as though something had just occurred to her, something that was not altogether unpleasant. She turned away quickly, before I could see any more, back to Carlisle and the others.

"Prepare yourselves—they've been holding out on us."

"What do you mean?" Alice demanded.

"Shh," she cautioned, and stared past her into the darkness.

The Cullens's informal circle suddenly widened out into a loose line with Jasper and Emmett at the spear point. From the way Elsa leaned forward next to me, I could tell that she wished she was standing beside them.

I squinted toward the forest, seeing nothing.

"Damn," Emmett muttered under his breath. "Did you ever see anything like it?"

Esme and Royal exchanged a wide-eyed glance.

"What is it?" I whispered as quietly as I could. "I can't see."

"The pack has grown," Elsa murmured into my ear.

Hadn't I told her that Quil had joined the pack? I strained to see the six wolves in the gloom. Finally, something glittered in the darkness—their eyes, higher up than they should be. I'd forgotten how very tall the wolves were. Like horses, only thick with muslces and fur—and teeth like knives, impossible to overlook.

I could only see the eyes. And as I scanned, straining to see more, it occurred to me that there were more than six pairs facing us.One, two, three…I counted the pairs swiftly in my head. Twice.

There were ten of them.

"Fascinating," Elsa murmured almost silently.

Carlisle took a slow, deliberate step forward. It was a careful movement, designed to reassure.

"Welcome," he greeted the invisible wolves.

"Thank you," Elsa responded in a strange, flat tone, and I realized at once that the words came from Sam. I looked to the eyes shining in the centure of the line, the highest up, the tallest of them. It was impossible to separate the shape of the big black wolf from the darkness.

Elsa spoke again in the same detached voice, speaking Sam's words. "We will watch and listen, but no more. That is the most we can ask of our self-control."

"That is more than enough," Carlisle answered. "My son Jasper"—he gestured to where Jasper stood, tensed and ready—"has experience in this area. He will teach us how they fight, how they are to be defeated. I'm sure you can apply this to your own hunting style."

"They are different from you?" Elsa asked for Sam.

Carlisle nodded. "They are all very new—only months old to this life. Children, in a way. They will have no skill or strategy, only brute strength. Tonight there numbers stand at twenty. Ten for us, ten for you—it shouldn't be difficult. The numbers may go down. The new ones fight amongst themselves."

A rumble passed down the shadowy line of wolves, a low growling mutter that somehow managed to sound enthusiastic.

"We are willing to take more than our share, if necessary," Elsa translated, her tone less indifferent now.

Carlisle smiled. "We'll see how it plays out."

"Do you know when and how they'll arrive?"

"They'll come across the mountains in four days, in the late morning. As they approach, Alice will help us intercept their path."

"Thank you for the information. We will watch."

With a sighing sound, the eyes sank closer to the ground one set at a time.

It was silent for two heartbeats, and then Jasper took a step into the empty space between the vampires and the wolves. It wasn't hard for me to see him—his skin was as bright against the darkness as the wolves' eyes. Jasper threw a wary glance toward Elsa, who nodded, and then Jasper turned his back to the werewolves. He sighed, clearly uncomfortable.

"Carlisle's right." Jasper spoke only to us; he seemed to be trying to ignore the audience behind him. "They'll fight like children. The two most important things you'll need to remember are, first, don't let them get their arms around you and, second, don't go for the obvious kill. That's all they'll be prepeared for. As long as you come at them from the side and keep moving, they'll be too confused to respond effectively. "Emmett?"

Emmett stepped out of the line with a huge smile.

Jasper backed toward the north end of the opening between the allied enemies. He waved Emmett forward.

"Okay, Emmett first. He's the best example of a newborn attack."

Emmett's eyes narrowed. "I'lltrynot to break anything," he muttered.

Jasper grinned. "What I meant is that Emmett relies on his strength. He's very straightforward about the attack. The newborns won't be trying anything subtle, either. Just go for the easy kill, Emmett."

Jasper backed up a few more paces, his body tensing.

"Okay, Emmett—try to catch me. Don't hold back."

Emmett grinned. "Not in my nature."

And I couldn't see Jasper anyore—he was a blur as Emmett charged him like a bear, grinning while he snarled. Emmett was impossibly quick, too, but not like Jasper. It looked like Jasper had no more substance than a ghost—any time it seemed Emmett's big hands had him for sure, Emmett's fingers clenched around nothing but the air. Beside me, Elsa leaned forward intently, her eyes locked on the brawl. Then Emmett froze.

Jasper had him from behind, his teeth an inch from his throat.

Emmett cussed.

There was a muttered rumble of appreciation from the watching wolves.

"Again," Emmett insisted, his smile gone.

"It's my turn," Elsa protested. My fingers tensed around hers involuntarily.

"In a minute." Jasper grinned, stepping back. "I want to show Anna something first."

I watched with anxious eyes as he waved Alice forward.

"I know you worry about her," he explained to me as she danced blithely into the ring. "I want to show you why that's not necessary."

Thought I knew that Jasper would never allow any harm to come to Alice, it was still hard to watch as he sank back into a crouch facing her. Alice stood motionlessly, looking tiny as a doll after Emmett, smiling to herself. Jasper shifted forward, then slinked to her left.

Alice closed her eyes.

My heart thumped unevenly as Jasper stalked toward where Alice stood.

Jasper sprang, disappearing. Suddenly he was on the other side of Alice. She didn't appear to have moved.

Jasper wheeled and launched himself at her again, only to land in a crouch behind her like the first time; all the while Alice stood smiling with her eyes closed.

I watched Alice more carefully now.

Shewasmoving—I'd just been missing it, distracted by Jasper's attacks. She took a small step forward at the exact second that Jasper's body flew through the spot where she'd just been standing. She took another step, while Jasper's grasping hands whistled past where her waist had been.

Jasper closed in, and Alice began to move faster. She was dancing—spiraling and twisting and curling in on herself. Jasper was her partner, lunging, reaching through her graceful patterns, never touching her, like every movement was choreographed. Finally, Alice laughed.

Out of nowhere she was perched on Jasper's back, her lips at his neck.

"Gotcha," she said, and kissed his throat.

Jasper chuckled, shaking his head. "You truly are one frightening little monster."

The wolves muttered again. This time the sound was wary.

"It's good for them to learn some respect," Elsa murmured, amused. Then she spoke louder. "My turn."

She squeezed my hand before she let it go.

Alice came to take her place beside me. "Cool, huh?" she asked me smugly.

"Very," I agreed, not looking away from Elsa as she glided noiselessly toward Jasper, her movements lithe and watchful as a jungle cat.

"I've got my eye on you, Anna," she whispered suddenly, her voice pitched so low that I could barely hear, through her lips were at my ear.

My gaze flickered to her face and then back to Elsa. She was intent on Jasper, both of the feinting as she closed the distance.

Alice's expression was full of reproach.

"I'll warn her if your plans get any more defined," she threatened in the same low murmur. "It doesn't help anything for you to put yourself in danger. Do you think either of them would give up if you died? They'd still fight, we all would. You can't change anything, so just be good, okay?"

I grimaced, trying to ignore her.

"I'm watching," she repeated.

Elsa had closed on Jasper now, and this fight was more even than either of the others. Jasper had the century of experience to guide him, and he tried to go on instinct alone as much as he could, but his thoughts always gave him away a fraction of a second before he acted. Elsa was slightly faster, but the moves Jasper used were unfamiliar to her. They came at each other again and again, neither one able to gain the advantage, instinctive snarls erupting constantly. It was hard to watch, but harder to look away. They moved too fast for me to really understand what they were doing. Now and then the sharp eyes of the wolves would catch my attention. I had a feeling the wolves were getting more out of this than I was—maybe more than they should.

Eventually, Carlisle cleared his throat.

Jasper laughed, and took a step back. Elsa straightened up and grinned at him.

"Back to work," Jasper consented. "We'll call it a draw."

Everyone took turns, Carlisle, then Royal, Esme, and Emmett again. I squinted through my lashes, cringing as Jasper attacked Esme. That one was the hardest to watch. Then he slowed down, still not quite enough for me to understand his motions, and gave more instruction.

"You see what I'm doing here?" he would ask. "Yes, just like that," he encouraged. "Concentrate on the sides. Don't forget where their target will be. Keep moving."

Elsa was always focused, watching and also listening to what others couldn't see.

It got more difficult to follow as my eyes got heavier. I hadn't been sleeping well lately, anyway, and it was approaching a solid twenty-four hours since the last time I'd slept. I leaned against Elsa's side, and let my eyelids drop.

"We're about finished," she whispered.

Jasper confirmed that, turning toward the wolves for the first time, his expression uncomfortable again. "We'll be doing this tomorrow. Please feel welcome to observe again."

"Yes," Elsa answered in Sam's cool voice. "We'll be here."

Then Elsa sighed, patted my arm, and stepped away from me. she turned to her family.

"The pack thinks it would be helpful to be familiar with each of our scents—so they don't make mistakes later. If we could hold very still, it will make it easier for them."

"Certainly," Carlisle said to Sam. "Whatever you need."

There was a gloomy, throaty grumble from the wolf pack as they rose to their feet.

My eyes were wide again, exhaustion forgotten.

The deep black of the night was just beginning to fade — the sun brightening the clouds, though it hadn't cleared the horizon yet, far away on the other side of the mountains. As they approached, it was suddenly possible to make out shapes… colors.

Sam was in the lead, of course. Unbelievably huge, black as midnight, a monster straight out of my nightmares—literally; after the first time I'd seen Sam and the others in the meadow, they'd starred in my bad dreams more than once.

Now that I could see them all, match the vastness with each pair of eyes, it looked like more than ten. The pack was overwhelming.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw that Elsa was watching me, carefully evaluating my reaction.

Sam approached Carlisle where he stood in the front, the huge pack right on his tail. Jasper stiffened, but Emmett, on the other side of Carlisle, was grinning and relaxed.

Sam sniffed at Carlisle, seeming to wince slightly as he did. Then he moved on to Jasper.

My eyes ran down the wary brace of wolves. I was sure I could pick out a few of the new additions. There was a light gray wolf that was leaner than the others, the hackles on the back of his neck raised in distaste. There was another, the color of desert sand, who seemed gangly and uncoordinated beside the rest. A low whine broke through the sandy wolf's control when Sam's advance left him isolated between Carlisle and Jasper.

I stopped at the wolf just behind Sam. His fur was reddish-brown and longer than the others, shaggy in comparison. He was almost as tall as Sam, the second largest in the group. His stance was casual, somehow exuding nonchalance over what the rest obviously considered an ordeal.

The enormous russet-colored wolf seemed to feel my gaze, and he looked up at me with familiar black eyes.

I stared back at him, trying to believe what I already knew. I could feel the wonder and fascination on my face.

The wolf's muzzle fell open, pulling back over his teeth. It would have been a frightening expression, except that his tongue lolled out the side in a wolfy grin.

I giggled.

Kristoff's grin widened over his sharp teeth. He left his place in line, ignoring the eyes of his pack as they followed him. He trotted past Elsa and Alice to stand not two feet away from me. He stopped their, his gaze flickering briefly toward Elsa.

Elsa stood motionless, a statue, her eyes still assessing my reaction.

Kristoff crouched down on his front legs and dropped his head so that his face was no higher than mine, staring at me, measuring my response just as much as Elsa was.

"Kristoff?" I breathed.

The answering rumble deep in his chest sounded like a chuckle.

I reached my hand out, fingers trembling slightly, and touched the red-brown fur on the side of his face.

The black eyes closed, and Kristoff leaned his huge head into my hand. A thrumming hum resonated in his throat.

The fur was both soft and rough, and warm against my skin. I ran my fingers through it curiously, learning the texture, stroking his neck where the color deepened. I hadn't realized how close I'd gotten; without warning, Kristoff suddenly licked my face from chin to hairline.

"Ew! Gross, Kristoff!" I complained, jumping back and smacking at him, just as I would have if he were human. He dodged out of the way, and the coughing bark that came through his teeth was obviously laughter.

I wiped my face on the sleeve of my shirt, unable to keep from laughing with him.

It was at that point that I realized that everyone was watching us, the Cullens and the werewolves—the Cullens with perplexed and somewhat disgusted expressions. It was hard to read the wolves' faces. I thought Sam looked unhappy.

And then there was Elsa, on edge and clearly disappointed. I realized she'd been hoping for a different reaction from me. Like screaming and running away in terror.

Kristoff made the laughing sound again.

The other wolves were backing away now, not taking their eyes off the Cullens as they departed. Kristoff stood by my side, watching them go. Soon, they disappeared into the murky forest. Only two hesitated by the trees, watching Kristoff, their postures radiating anxiety.

Elsa sighed, and—ignoring Kristoff—came to stand on my other side, taking my hand.

"Ready to go?" she asked me.

Before I could answer, she was staring over me at Kristoff.

"I've not quite figured out the details yet," she said, answering a question in Kristoff's thoughts.

The Kristoff-wolf grumbled sullenly.

"It's more complicated than that," Elsa said. "Don't concern yourself; I'll make sure it's safe."

"What are you talking about?" I asked.

"Just discussing strategy," Elsa replied.

Kristoff's head swiveled back and forth, looking at our faces. Then, suddenly, he bolted for the forest. As he darted away, I noticed for the first time a square of folded black fabric secured to his back leg.

"Wait," I called, one hand stretching automatically to reach after him. But he disappeared into the trees in seconds, the other two wolves following.

"Why did he leave?" I asked, hurt.

"He's coming back," Elsa said. She sighed. "He wants to be able to talk for himself."

I watched the edge of the forest where Kristoff had vanished, leaning into Elsa's side again. I was on the point of collapse, but I was fighting it.

Kristoff loped back into view, on two legs this time. His broad chest was bare, his hair tangled and shaggy. He wore only a pair of black sweat pants, his feet bare to the cold ground. He was alone now, but I suspected that his friends lingered in the trees, invisible.

It didn't take him long to cross the field, though he gave a wide berth to the Cullens, who stood talking quietly in a loose circle.

"Okay," Kristoff said when he was a few feet from us, evidently continuing the conversation I'd missed. "What's so complicated about it?"

"I have to consider every possibility," Elsa said, unruffled. "What if someone gets by you?"

Kristoff scoffed at that idea. "Okay, so leave her on the reservation. We're making Collin and Brady stay behind anyway. She'll be safe there."

I scowled. "Are you talking about me?"

"I just want to know what she plans to do with you during the fight," Kristoff explained.

"Dowith me?"

"Aw, come on, babe, you know I didn't mean it in a bad way." Kristoff sighed.

"You can't stay in Forks, Anna." Elsa's voice was pacifying. "They know where to look for you there. What if someone slipped by us?"

My stomach dropped and the blood drained from my face. "David?" I gasped.

"He'll be with Billy," Kristoff assured me quickly. "If my dad has to commit a murder to get him there, he'll do it. Probably won't take that much. It's this Saturday, right? There's a game."

"This Saturday?" I asked, my head spinning. I was too lightheaded to control my wildly random thoughts. I frowned at Elsa. "Well, crap! There goes your graduation present."

Elsa laughed. "It's the thought that counts," she reminded me. "You can give the tickets to someone else."

Inspiration came swiftly. "Angela and Ben," I decided at once. "At least that will get them out of town. I think Jeremy is going on vacation with his family, so he'll be safe…"

She touched my cheek. "You can't evacuate everyone," she said in a gentle voice. "Hiding you is just a precaution. I told you—we'll have no problem now. There won't be enough of them to keep us entertained."

"But what about keeping Anna in La Push?" Kristoff interjected, eagerly.

"She's been back and forth too much," Elsa said. "She's left trails all over the place. Alice only sees the very young vampires coming on the hunt, but obviously someone created them. There is someone more experienced behind this. Whoever she"—Elsa paused to look at me—"is, thiscouldall be a distraction. Alice will see if she decides to look herself, but we could be very busy at the time that decision is made. Maybe someone is counting on that. I can't leave Anna somewhere she's been frequently. Shehasto be hard to find, just in case. It's a very long shot but I'm not taking chances."

"I'm standing right here, you know." I frowned at Elsa.

"I'm sorry," she patted my arm. "I'm just being overcautious," she promised.

Kristoff gestured to the deep forest east of us, to the vast expanse of the Olympic Mountains.

"So hide her here," he suggested. "There's a million possibilities—places either one of us could be in just a few minutes if there's a need."

Elsa shook her head. "Her scent is too strong and, combined with mine, especially distinct. Even if I carried her, it would leave a trail.Ourtrace is all over the range, but in conjunction with Anna's scent, it would catch their attention. We're not exactly sure which path they'll take, becausetheydon't know yet. If they crossed Anna's scent before they found us…"

Both of them grimaced at the same time, their eyebrows pulling together.

"You see the difficulties."

"There has to be a way to make this work," Kristoff muttered. He glared toward the forest, pursing his lips.

I swayed on my feet. Elsa put her arm around my waist, pulling me closer and supporting my weight.

"I need to get you home—you're exhausted. And David will be waking up soon…"

"Wait a sec," Kristoff said, wheeling back to us, his eyes bright. "My scent disgusts you, right?"

"Hmm, not bad." Elsa was two steps ahead. "It's possible." She turned toward her family. "Jasper?" she called.

Jasper looked up curiously. He walked over with Alice a half step behind. Her face was frustrated again.

"Okay, Kristoff." Elsa nodded at him.

Kristoff turned to me with a strange mixture of emotion on his face. He was clearly excited by whatever this new plan of his was, but he was also still uneasy so close to his enemy allies. And then it was my turn to be wary as he held his arms out toward me.

Elsa took a deep breath.

"We're going to see if I can confuse the scent enough to hide your trail," Kristoff explained.

I stared at his open arms suspiciously.

"You're going to have to let him carry you, Anna," Elsa told me. Her voice was calm, but I could hear the subdued distaste.

I frowned.

Kristoff sighed.

"I'll behave, I promise," he muttered.

But his eyes flickered to Elsa, just like mine did. Elsa's face was composed and smooth. She spoke to Jasper.

Anna's scent is so much more potent to me—I thought it would be a fairer test if someone else tried."

I deliberated for a moment and then I nodded once at Kristoff and he scooped me up into his arms. He turned away from Elsa and Jasper and paced swiftly into the woods. I tried to keep my face impassive, but I felt slightly uncomfortable in Kristoff's arms. It felt too intimate to me—surely he didn't need to hold mequiteso tightly—and I couldn't help but wonder what it felt like to him. It reminded me of my last afternoon in La Push, and I still wasn't over that, and I felt like it was perfectly fair for me to feel that way.

We didn't go far; he made a wide arc and came back into the clearing from a different direction, maybe half a football field away from our original departure point. Elsa was there alone and Kristoff headed toward him.

"You can put me down now, Kristoff."

"I don't want to take a chance of messing up the experiment." His walk slowed and his arms tightened. "You haven't forgiven me, have you?" he mumbled.

"I accepted your apology Kristoff, I don't have to forgive you overnight."

"Come on, Anna—" he began.

"Kristoff," I interrupted him. "You don't get a free pass for pulling something like that."

He thought about it for a moment. "You're right." He sighed, and he gently set me down. "I'm sorry."

Out of nowhere, Jasper and Alice stood beside Elsa. I glanced sideways at Kristoff, his face was downcast, and walked to Elsa's side.

"Well?" I asked.

"As long as you don't touch anything, Anna, I can'timaginesomeone sticking thei nose close enough to that trail to catch your scent," Jasper said, grimacing. "It was almost completely obscured."

"A definite success," Alice agreed, wrinkling her nose.

"And it gave me an idea."

"Which will work," Alice added confidently.

"Clever," Elsa agreed.

"How do youstandthat?" Kristoff muttered to me, and I couldn't stop myself from smirking in response. A smile danced on the corners of his mouth.

Elsa ignored Kristoff and looked at me while she explained. "We're—well,you're—going to leave a false trail to the clearing, Anna. The newborns are hunting, your scent will excite them, and they'll come exactly the way we want them to without being careful about it. Alice can already see that this will work. When they catchourscent, they'll split up and try to come at us from two sides. Half will go through the forest, where her vision suddenly disappears…"

"Yes!" Kristoff hissed.

Elsa smiled at him, a smile of true comradeship.

I felt nauseous. How could they be so eager for this? How could I stand having both of them in danger? I couldn't.

I wouldn't.

"Not a chance," Elsa said suddenly, her voice disgusted. It made me jump, worrying that she'd somehow heard my resolve, but her eyes were on Jasper.

"I know, I know," Jasper said quickly. "I didn't even consider it, not really."

Alice stepped on his foot.

"If Anna was actually there in the clearing," Jasper explained to her, "it would drive them insane. They wouldn't be able to concentrate on anything but her. It would make picking them off truly easy…"

Elsa's glare had Jasper backtracking.

"Of course it's too dangerous for her. It was just an errant thought," he said quickly. But he looked at me from the corner of his eyes, and the look was wistful.

"No," Elsa said. Her voice rang with finality.

"You're right," Jasper said. He took Alice's hand and started back to the others. "Best two out of three?" I heard him ask her as they went to practice again.

Kristoff stared after him in disgust.

"Jasper looks at things from a military perspective," Elsa quietly defended her brother. "He looks at all the options—it's thoroughness, not callousness."

Kristoff snorted.

He'd edged closer unconsciously, drawn by his absorption in the planning. He stood only three feet from Elsa now, and standing there between them, I could feel the physical tension in the air. It was like static, an uncomfortable charge.

Elsa got back to business. "I'll bring her here Friday afternoon to lay the false trail. You can meet us afterward, and carry her to a place I know. Completely out of the way, and easily defensible, not that it will come to that. I'll take another route there."

"And then what? Leave her with her cell phone?" Kristoff asked critically.

"You have a better idea?"

Kristoff was suddenly smug. "Actually, I do."

"Oh… Again, dog, not bad at all."

Kristoff turned to me quickly, trying to include me in the conversation rather than talk over me. "We tried to talk Olaf into staying behind with the younger two. He's still too young, but he's stubborn and he's resisting. So I thought of a new assignment for him—cell phone."

I felt a sudden shock as I realized which Olaf he was talking about. I tried to keep my expression even as I nodded. "Olaf Clearwater, right? As long as he's in his wolf form, he'll be connected to the rest of the pack."

"You got it." Kristoff grinned.

"Cell phone with teeth."

Kristoff laughed.

"Distance isn't a problem?" Elsa asked, turning to Kristoff.

"Nope."

"Three hundred miles?" Elsa asked. "That's impressive."

Kristoff turned to me again. "That's the farthest we've ever gone to experiment," he told me. "Still clear as a bell."

I nodded absently; I was reeling from the idea that sweet little Olaf Clearwater was already a werewolf, too, and that made it difficult to concentrate. I could see his bright smile, so much like a younger Kristoff, in my head; he couldn't be more than fifteen, if he was that. His enthusiasm at the council meeting bonfire suddenly took on new meaning…

"It's a good idea." Elsa seemed reluctant to admit this. "I'll feel better with Olaf there, even without the instantaneous communication. I don't know if I'd be able to leave Anna there alone. To think it's come to this, though! Trusting werewolves!"

"Fightingwithvampires instead of against them!" Kristoff mirrored Elsa's tone of disgust.

"Well, you still get to fight against some of them," Elsa said.

Kristoff smiled. "That's the reason we're here."


	20. compromise

Elsa carried me home in her arms, expecting that I wouldn't be able to hang on. I must have fallen asleep on the way.

When I woke up, I was in my bed and the dull light come through my windows slanted in from a strange angle. Almost like it was afternoon.

I yawned and stretched, my fingers encountered something cool and smooth. Her hand.

"Elsa?" I mumbled.

"Are you really awake this time?" she murmured.

"Mmm," I sighed in assent. "Have there been a lot of false alarms?"

"You've been very restless—talking all day."

"Allday?" I blinked and looked at the windows again.

"You had a long night," she said reassuringly. "You'd earned a day in bed."

I sat up, and my head spun. The lightwascoming in my window from the west. "Wow."

"Hungry?" she guessed. "Do you want breakfast in bed?"

"I'll get it," I groaned, stretching again. "I need to get up and move around."

She held my hand on the way to the kitchen, eyeing me carefully, like I might fall over. Or maybe she thought I was sleepwalking.

I kept it simple throwing a couple of Pop-Tarts in the toaster. I caught a glimpse of myself in the reflective chrome.

"Ugh, I'm a mess."

"It was a long night," she said again. "You should have stayed here and slept."

"Right! And missedeverything. You know, you need to start accepting that I need to be a part of these things."

She sighed, but she was smiling. "I don't think I could actually stop you even if I tried."

I sat down with my breakfast, and she sat next to me. When I lifted her the Pop-Tart to take the first bite, I noticed her staring at my chest. I looked down, and saw that I was still wearing the gift that Kristoff had given me at the party.

"May I?" she asked, gesturing to the tiny wooden wolf.

I swallowed noisily. "Um, sure."

She moved her hand under the necklace and balanced the little figurine on her snowy palm. For a fleeting moment, I was afraid. Just the slightest twist of her fingers could crush it into splinters.

But of course Elsa wouldn't do that. I was embarrassed I'd even had the thought. She only weighed the wolf in her palm for a moment, and then let it fall. It swung back against my chest.

I tried to read the expression in her eyes. All I could see was thoughtfulness; she kept everything else hidden, if therewasanything else.

"Kristoff Black can give you presents."

It wasn't a question, or an accusation. Just a statement of fact. But I knew she was referring to my last birthday and the rules I'd had over gifts; I hadn't wanted any. I didn't like people spending money on me, of course, everyone had ignored me anyway…

"You've given me presents," I reminded her. "You know I like the homemade kind."

She pursed her lips for a second. "how about hand-me-downs? Are those acceptable?"

"What do you mean?"

"This necklace." Her finger ran lightly along the chain. "You'll be wearing this a lot?"

I shrugged.

"Because you don't want to hurt his feelings," she suggested shrewdly.

"No, I wouldn't do that. I actually like it, and he spent a lot of time on it."

"I see," her finger now ran up my neck, "Don't you think it's fair, then," she asked, her finger reaching my jaw. "If I have a little representation?"

"Representation?"

"A charm—something to keepmeon your mind."

"I don't think I need reminders."

"If I gave you something, would you wear it?" she pressed.

"A hand-me-down?" I checked.

"Yes, something I've had for a while." She smiled crookedly.

If this was the only reaction to Kristoff's gift, I would take it gladly. "Whatever makes you happy."

"Have you noticed the inequality?" she asked, her voice turning accusing. "Because I certainly have."

"What inequality?"

Her eyes narrowed. "Everyone else is able to get away with giving you things. Everyone but me. I would have loved to get you a graduation present, but I didn't. I knew it would have upset you more than if anyone else did. That's utterly unfair. How do you explain yourself?"

"Easy." I shrugged. "I have you and that's enough. You don't need to give me anything else."

She processed that for a moment, and then rolled her eyes, she opened her mouth to speak.

"Besides," I cut her off, "I've explained to you why I don't like getting gifts. Of course, I appreciate them and I'm thankful to anyone who would get me something, but you know I don'tlikepeople spending money on me. I think, as my girlfriend, you should respect how I feel and maybe figure outotherways to make me happy thatIwould enjoy, not just that would makeyouhappy."

I chewed my breakfast calmly while she mulled over what I had said.

"Sometimes," she sighed. "it can be very frustrating when you're right."

"I understand you would like to give me gifts," I replied. "And if it's a hand-me-down or something you've made, I won't object in the slightest. Does that work for you?"

She smiled. "Yes mam."

Elsa's phone buzzed.

She looked at the number before she opened it. "What is it, Alice?"

She listened, and I waited for her reaction, suddenly nervous. But whatever she said didn't surprise her. She sighed a few times.

"I sort of guessed as much," she told her, staring into my eyes, a disapproving arch to her brow. "She was talking in her sleep."

I flushed. What had I said now?

"I'll take care of it," she promised.

She glared at me as she pocketed her phone. "Is there something you'd like to talk about?"

I deliberated for a moment. Given Alice's warning last night, I could guess why she'd called. And then remembering the troubled dreams I'd had as I'd slept through the day—dreams where I chased after Jasper, trying to follow him and find the clearing in the maze-like woods, knowing I would find the fight—knowing my presence would cause enough of a distraction to tip the fight in the favor of the Cullens and the wolf pack… I could also guess what Elsa had overheard while I'd slept.

I pursed my lips for a moment, not quite able to meet her gaze. She waited.

"I like Jasper's idea," I finally said.

She groaned.

"I want to help. I have to dosomething." I insisted.

"It wouldn't help to have you in danger."

"Jasper thinks it would. This ishisarea of expertise."

Elsa glowered at me.

"You can't force me to keep away," I insisted. "I'm not going to hide out in the forest while you all take risks for me."

Suddenly, she was fighting a smile. "Alice doesn't see you in the clearing, Anna. She sees you stumbling around lost in the woods. You won't be able to find us; you'll just make it more time consuming for me to find you afterward."

I tried to keep as cool as she was. "That's because Alice didn't factor in Olaf Clearwater," I said politely. "If she had, of course, she wouldn't have been able to see anything at all. But it sounds like Olaf wants to be there as much as I do. It shouldn't be too hard to persuade him to show me the way. In fact, I bet Alice's visions just went dark."

Frustration flickered across her face, and she took a deep breath and composed herself. "That might have worked… if you hadn't told me. Now I'll just ask Sam to give Olaf certain orders. Much as he might want to, Olaf won't be able to ignore that kind of injunction."

I kept my smile pleasant. "But why would Sam give those orders? If I tell him how it would help for me to be there? I'll bet Sam would rather do me a favor than you."

She had to compose herself again. "Maybe you're right. But I'm sure Kristoff would be only too eager to give those same orders."

I frowned. "Kristoff?"

"Kristoff is second in command. Did he never tell you that? His orders have to be followed, too."

She had me, and by her smile, she knew it. My forehead crumpled. Kristoff would be on her side—in this one instance—I was sure. And Kristoff neverhadtold me that.

Elsa took advantage of the fact that I was momentarily stumped, continuing in a suspiciously smooth and soothing voice.

"I got a fascinating look into the pack's mind last night. It was better than a soap opera. I had no idea how complex the dynamic is with such a large pack. The pull of the individual against the plural psyche… Absolutely fascinating."

She was obviously trying to distract me. I glared at her.

"Kristoff's been keeping a lot of secrets," she said with a grin.

I didn't answer, I just kept glaring, holding on to my argument and waiting for an opening.

"For instance, did you note the leaner gray wolf there last night?"

I nodded one stiff nod.

She chuckled. "Do you have any idea who that was? You already know him, or at least, he knows you."

I sighed. "Okay, I'll bite, who is it?"

"His name is Liam Clearwater."

"Liam's a wolf now?" My jaw dropped. "What? For how long? Why didn't Kristoff tell me?"

"There are things he wasn't allowed to share—their numbers, for instance. Like I said before, when Sam gives an order, the pack simply isn't able to ignore it. Kristoff was very careful to think of other things when he was near me. Of course, after last night that's all out the window."

"I can't believe it. Liam, too." Suddenly, I remembered Kristoff speaking of Liam and Sam, and the way he acted as if he'd said too much—after he'd said something about Sam having to look in Liam's eyesevery dayand know that he'd broken all his promises… Liam on the cliff, a tear glistening on his cheek when Old Quil had spoken of the burden and sacrifice the Quileute sons shared… And Billy, spending time with Sue because she was having trouble with her kids… and here the trouble actually was that both of them were werewolves now!

I hadn't given much thought to Liam Clearwater, just to grieve for his loss when Harry had passed away, and then to pity him again when Kristoff had told his story, about how Sam choosing his duty to the pack—choosing Emily—had broken Liam's heart.

And now Liam was a part of Sam's pack, hearing his thoughts… and unable to hide his own.

I really hate that part, Kristoff had said.Everything you're ashamed of, laid out for everyone to see.

"Poor Liam," I whispered.

Elsa snorted. "He's making life exceedingly unpleasant for the rest of them. I'm not sure he deserves your sympathy."

"What do you mean?"

"It's hard enough for them, having to share all their thoughts. Most of them try to cooperate, make it easier. When even one member is deliberately malicious, it's painful for everyone."

"He has reason enough," I said, still on Liam's side.

"Oh, I know," she said. "Sam chose his duty as the leader. It's an unbearable decision to make, and for Liam to see how happy and in love he is with Emily…" she shook her head. "It's torture, to be sure."

"Liam wasn't open about his relationship with Sam, either, was he?" I asked.

"No," Elsa shook her head. "It was a secret. A secret that everyone was made aware of one by one as they joined the pack."

"Poor Liam. He lost everything because of the pack…" I sighed. "But what did you mean, malicious?"

"Liam is constantly bringing up things they'd rather not think of," she explained. "For example, Sven."

"What's with Sven?" I asked, surprised.

"His mother moved down from the Makah reservation eighteen years ago, when she was pregnant with him. She's not Quileaute. Everyone assumed she'd left his father behind with the Makahs. But then he joined the pack."

"So… Wait a minute…"

"Exactly," Elsa nodded. "So the prime candidates for Sven's father are Quil Ateara Sr., Joshua Uley, or Billy Black, all of them married at that point, of course."

"No!" I gasped. Elsa was right—this was exactly like a soap opera.

"Now Sam, Kristoff, and Quil all wonder which one of them has a half-brother. They'd all like to think it's Sam, since his father was never much of a father. But the doubt is always there. Kristoff's never been able to ask Billy about that."

"Wow. How did you get so much in one night?"

"The pack mind is mesmerizing. All thinking together and then separately at the same time. There's so much to read!"

She sounded faintly regretful, like someone who'd put down a good book just before the climax. I laughed.

"The pack is fascinating," I agreed. "Almost as fascinating as you are when you're trying to distract me."

Her expression became polite again—a perfect poker face.

"I have to be in that clearing, Elsa."

"No," she said in a very final tone.

"But, Elsa," I pressed. "I can't be sitting somewherehopingthat everything will turn out okay. I know what my limits are. I hate to sound… I don't know,selflish, but the thought of you leaving me—"

Her sudden intake of breath caught me off-guard. Suddenly, her arms were around me, her hands stroking my face.

"You know it's not like that, Anna," she murmured. "I won't be far, and it will be over quickly."

"I didn't mean likethat, Elsa. I know you wouldn't dothat. I just mean, I can't stand waiting on the sidelines not knowing whether or not any of you will come back. How do I live through that, no matter how quickly it's over?"

She sighed. "It's going to be easy, Anna. There's no reason for your fears."

"None at all?"

"None."

"And everybody will be fine?"

"Everyone," she promised.

"So there's no way at all that I need to be in the clearing?"

"Of course not. Alice just told me that they're down to nineteen. We'll be able to handle it easily. As I said before, someone may have to sit out." She chuckled, trying to cheer me up.

"Either it's so dangerous that I have to be hidden away, or it's so easy someone can sit out. Which is it?"

She pursed her lips. "Anna—"

"Because if it's that easy, then there's no reason why I can't be in the clearing to help in some way, right? If someone's going to be sitting out, anyway, I mean."

She finally spoke, her voice strained. "Anna, I can't put you in danger—you can't ask me to do that."

"You can't ask me to sit out. I feel guilty enough that you all are going off to fight for me, I feel like such a burden as it is. I need to be able to help in any way I can."

"That's not acceptable. I can't have you anywhere near the fight."

"But if we're together, what could go wrong? How are you going to be able to fight knowing I'm off somewhere alone with a werewolf? I know you well enough to know that youcan'treally be okay with that, Elsa."

"You're right," she shook her head. "I'm not."

"So we need to stay together."

"You're right again." She closed her eyes.

"Okay, so we're in agreement." I said, relieved.

Her eyes still closed, she reached into her pocket and pulled out her phone again.

"Alice," she sighed. "Could you come stay with Anna for a bit?" She sighed again. "I need to speak with Jasper."

"What do you need to talk to Jasper about?" My eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"I'm going to discuss… me sitting out."

It was easy to read in her face how difficult the words were for her.

"Wait, what?" I gasped. "Elsa, you can't—"

"I can't leave you alone, Anna," she said gently. "You are my first priority."

"But I can't ask you to choose me over your family." I argued weakly. I couldn't help but be slightly pleased at the idea of her staying with me, though thinking even that made me feel horribly selfish.

"You didn't ask me to choose. You are right, it's not fair to ask you to sit somewhere alone and panicking. If I'm with you, and we have Olaf Clearwater there it will give me a direct line to the pack, it'll practically be like being there except you won't be in danger and we'll be together." She shrugged. "It's a compromise."

"A compromise…" I repeated numbly. "I feel selfish. I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize," she said, smiling a little. "Never feel selfish or guilty for telling me how you feel, Anna." She ran her finger along my jaw. "Besides, youarecorrect. I wouldn't be able to stand being away from you." She smiled my favorite crooked smile. "I've never been particularly good at staying away from you."

I didn't know what to say, so I leaned forward resting my forehead against her chest. "I love you," I whispered.

"I love you," she answered, kissing my hair. "more than anything."

We didn't move for a long moment. I kept my face hidden, pressed against her shirt. I felt relief at least knowing that Elsa would be with me and that also meant an instantaneous connection to the fight through Olaf. That relief was in direct opposition with a feeling of selfishness for putting the idea in Elsa's head to stay with me at all, and not having the strength to make a real fight against it. All of this was combined with an overwhelming sense of dread and guilt that people I loved and cared about were ready to fight for me.

"Who's the third wife?" she asked me suddenly.

"Huh?" I said, snapping out of my reverie.

"You were mumbling something about 'the third wife' last night. The rest made a little sense, but you lost me there."

"Oh." I didn't remember having had that dream again. "That was just one of the stories I heard at the bonfire the other night." I shrugged. "I guess it stuck with me."

Elsa leaned away from me and cocked her head to the side, probably confused by the uncomfortable edge to my voice.

Before she could ask, Alice appeared in the kitchen doorway with a sour expression.

"You're going to miss all the fun," she grumbled.

"Hello, Alice," she greeted her. She put one finger under my chin and tilted my face up to kiss me goodbye.

"I'll be back later tonight," she promised me. "I'll go work this out with the others, rearrange things."

"Okay."

"There's not much to arrange," Alice said. "I already told them. Emmett is pleased."

Els sighed. "Of course he is."

She walked out the door, leaving me to face Alice.

She looked at me with a strange expression.

"I'm sorry, Alice." I apologized again. "I didn't think she'd sit things out. I just wanted to be there—to help! Like Jasper wanted."

She sighed. "I understand your reasoning, and I can't fault your logic…" she pursed her lips. "If it were anyone other than Elsa, it might have worked."

"You're upset."

"Not with you. With Elsa. She's such a grouch when she doesn't get her way. I'm just anticipating living with her for the next few months." She made a face. "Oh well."

"I really am sorry, Alice. I can try to talk her out of it."

"Oh, don't worry so much, Anna." She pecked me on the cheek. "You're going to go prematurely gray." She tried to smooth out my wayward hair. "You just wanted to help, after all. Besides, I think she really would have started to worry too much if you weren't there."

"Thanks, Alice."

"Now, go clean yourself up," she gently tugged on my arms to lift me to my feet. "David will be home in fifteen minutes, and if you look this ragged he's not going to want to let you out again."

Wow. I really had lost the whole day. It felt like such a waste. I felt slightly jealous of the Cullens not actuallyneedingany sleep.

I was entirely presentable when David got home—fully dressed, hair decent, and in the kitchen putting dinner on the table. Alice sat in Elsa's usual place, and this seemed to make David's day.

"Howdy, Alice! How are you, hon?"

"I'm fine, David, thanks."

"I see you finally made it out of bed, sleepyhead," he said to me as I sat beside him, before turning back to Alice. "Everyone's talking about that party your parents threw last night. I'll bet you've got one heck of a clean-up job ahead of you."

Alice shrugged. Knowing her, it was already done.

"It was worth it," she said. "It was a great party."

"Where's Elsa?" David asked. "Is she helping clean up?"

Alice sighed and her face turned tragic. It was probably an act, but it was too perfect for me to be positive. "No. She's off planning the weekend with Emmett and Carlisle."

"Hiking again?"

Alice nodded, her face suddenly forlorn. "Yes. They'reallgoing. Except me. We always go backpacking at the end of the school year, sort of a celebration, but this year I decided I'd rather shop than hike, and not one of them will stay behind with me. I'm abandoned."

Her face puckered, the expression so devastated that David leaned toward her automatically, one hand reaching out, looking for some way to help. I glared at her suspiciously. What was she doing?

"Alice, honey, why don't you come stay with us," David offered. "I hate to think of you all alone in that big house."

She sighed. Something squashed my foot under the table.

"Ow!" I protested.

David turned to me. "What?"

Alice shot me a frustrated look. I could tell she thought I was very slow tonight.

"Stubbed my toe," I muttered.

"Oh." He looked back at Alice. "So, how 'bout it?"

She stepped on my foot again, not quite so hard this time.

"Er, Dad, you know, we don't really have the best accommodations here. I bet Alice doesn't want to sleep on my floor…"

David pursed his lips. Alice pulled out the devastated expression again.

"Maybe Anna should stay up there with you," he suggested. "Just until your folks get back."

"Oh, would you, Anna?" Alice smiled at me radiantly. "You don't mind shopping with me, right?"

"Sure," I agreed. "Shopping. Okay."

"When are they leaving?" David asked.

Alice made another face. "Tomorrow."

"When do you want me?" I asked.

"After dinner, I guess," she said, and then put one finger to her chin, thoughtful. "You don't have anything going on Saturday, do you? I want to go out of town to shop, and it will be an all-day thing."

"Not Seattle," David interjected, his eyebrows pulling together.

"Of course not," Alice agreed at once, though we both knew Seattle would be plenty safe on Saturday. "I was thinking Olympia, maybe…"

"You'll like that, Anna." David was cheerful with relief. "Go get your fill of the city."

"Yeah, it'll be great."

With one easy conversation, Alice had cleared my schedule for the battle.

Elsa returned not much later. She accepted David's wishes for a nice trip without surprise. She claimed they were leaving early in the morning, and said goodnight before the usual time. Alice left with her.

I excused myself soon after they left.

"You can't be tired," David protested.

"A little," I lied.

"No wonder you like to skip the parties," he muttered. "It takes you so long to recover."

Upstairs, Elsa was laying across my bed.

"What time are we meeting with the wolves?" I murmured as I went to join her.

"In an hour."

"That's good. Kristoff and his friends need to get some sleep."

"They don't need as much as you do," she pointed out.

I moved to another topic, assuming she was about to try and talk me into staying home. "Did Alice tell you that she's kidnapping me again?"

She grinned. "Actually, she's not."

I stared at her, confused, and she laughed quietly at my expression.

"I'm the only one who has permission to hold you hostage, remember?" she said. "Alice is going hunting with the rest of them." She sighed. "I guess I don't need to do that now."

"You'rekidnapping me?"

She nodded.

I thought about that briefly. No David listening downstairs, checking on me every so often. And no houseful of wide-awake vampires with their intrusively sensitive hearing… just her and me—really alone.

"Is that all right?" she asked, concerned by my silence.

"Well… sure, except one thing."

"What thing?" Her eyes were anxious. It was mind-boggling, but, somehow, she still seemed unsure of how crazy about her I was. Maybe I needed to make myself more clear.

"Why didn't Alice tell David you were leavingtonight?" I asked.

She laughed, relieved.

I enjoyed the trip to the clearing more than I had last night. I still felt guilty, still afraid, but I wasn't terrified anymore. I could function. I could see past what was coming, and almost believe that maybe itwouldbe okay. Elsa was apparently fine with the idea of missing the fight… and that made it very hard not to believe her when she said this would be easy. She wouldn't leave her family if she didn't believe it herself. Maybe Alice was right, and I did worry too much.

We got to the clearing last.

Jasper and Emmett were already wrestling—just warming up from the sounds of their laughter. Alice and Royal lounged on the hard ground, watching. Esme and Carlisle were talking a few yards away, heads close together, fingers linked, not paying attention.

It was much brighter tonight, the moon shining through the thin clouds, and I could easily see the three wolves that sat around the edge of the practice ring, spaced far apart to watch from different angles.

It was also easy to recognize Kristoff; I would have known him at once, even if he hadn't looked up and stared at the sound of our approach.

"Where are the rest of the wolves?" I wondered.

"They don't all need to be here. One would do the job, but Sam didn't trust us enough to just send Kristoff, though Kristoff was willing. Quil and Sven are his usual… I guess you could call them his wingmen."

"Kristoff trusts you."

Elsa nodded. "He trusts us enough to not try to kill him. That's about it, though."

"Are you participating tonight?" I asked, hesitant. I knew this was going to be almost as hard for her as being left behind would have been for me. Maybe harder.

"I'll help Jasper when he needs it. He wants to try some unequal groupings, teach them how to deal with multiple attackers."

She shrugged.

And a fresh wave of panic shattered my brief sense of confidence.

They were still outnumbered. I had made that worse.

I stared at the field, trying to hide my reaction.

It was the wrong place to look, struggling as I was to lie to myself, to convince myself that everything would work out as I needed it to. Because when I forced my eyes away from the Cullens—away from the image of their play fighting that would be real and deadly in just a few days—Kristoff caught my eyes and smiled.

It was the same wolfy grin as before, his eyes scrunching the way they did when he was human.

It was hard to believe that, not so long ago, I'd found the werewolves frightening—lost sleep to nightmares about them.

I knew, without asking, which of the others was Sven and which was Quil. Because Sven was clearly the thinner gray wolf with the dark spots on his back, who sat so patiently watching, while Quil — deep chocolate brown, lighter over his face — twitched constantly, looking like he was dying to join in the mock fight. They weren't monsters, even like this. They were friends.

Friends who didn't look nearly as indestructible as Emmett and Jasper did, moving faster than cobra strikes while the moonlight glinted off their granite-hard skin. Friends who didn't seem to understand the danger involved here. Friends who were still somewhat mortal, friends who could bleed, friends who could die...

Elsa's confidence was reassuring, because it was plain that she wasn't truly worried about her family. But would it hurt her if something happened to the wolves? Was there any reason for her to be anxious, if that possibility didn't bother her? Elsa's confidence only applied to one set of my fears.

I tried to smile back at Kristoff, swallowing against the lump in my throat. I didn't seem to get it right.

Kristoff sprang lightly to his feet, his agility at odds with his sheer mass, and trotted over to where Elsa and I stood on the fringe of things.

"Kristoff," Elsa greeted him politely.

Kristoff ignored her, his dark eyes on me. He put his head down to my level, as he had yesterday, cocking it to one side. A low whimper escaped his muzzle.

"I'm fine," I answered, not needing the translation that Elsa was about to give. "Just worried, you know."

Kristoff continued to stare at me.

"He wants to know why," Elsa murmured.

Kristoff growled—not a threatening sound, an annoyed sound—and Elsa's lip twitched.

"What?" I asked.

"He thinks my translations leave something to be desired. What he actually thought was, 'That's really stupid. What is there to be worried about?' I edited, because I thought it was rude."

I halfway smiled, too anxious to really feel amused. "There's plenty to be worried about," I told Kristoff. "Like a bunch of really stupid wolves getting themselves hurt."

Kristoff laughed his coughing bark.

Elsa sighed. "Jasper wants help. You'll be okay without a translator?"

"I'll manage."

Elsa looked at me wistfully for one minute, her expression hard to understand, then turned her back and strode over to where Jasper waited.

I sat down where I was. The ground was cold and uncomfortable.

Kristoff took a step forward, then looked back at me, and a low whine rose in his throat. He took another half-step.

"Go on without me," I told him. "I don't want to watch."

Kristoff leaned his head to the side again for a moment, and then folded himself on to the ground beside me with a rumbling sigh.

"Really, you can go ahead," I assured him. He didn't respond, he just put his head down on his paws.

I stared up at the bright silver clouds, not wanting to see the fight. My imagination had more than enough fuel. A breeze blew through the clearing, and I shivered.

Kristoff scooted himself closer to me, pressing his warm fur against my left side.

"Er, thanks," I muttered.

After a few minutes, I leaned against his wide shoulder. It was much more comfortable that way.

The clouds moved slowly across the sky, dimming and brightening as thick patches crossed the moon and passed on.

Absently, I began pulling my fingers through the fur on his neck. That same strange humming sound that he'd made yesterday rumbled through his throat. It was a homey kind of sound. Rougher, wilder than a cat's purr, but conveying the same sense of contentment.

"You know, I never had a dog," I mused. "I always wanted one, but Reneé's allergic."

Kristoff laughed; his body shook under me.

"Aren't you worried about Saturday at all?" I asked.

He turned his enormous head toward me, so that I could see one of his eyes roll.

"I wish I could feel that positive."

He leaned his head against my leg and started humming again. And it did make me feel just a little bit better.

"So we've got some hiking to do tomorrow, I guess."

He rumbled; the sound was enthusiastic.

"It might be alonghike," I warned him. "Elsa doesn't judge distances the way a normal person does."

Kristoff barked another laugh.

I settled deeper into his warm fur, resting my head against his neck.

It was strange. Even though he was in this bizarre form, this felt more like the way Kristoff and I used to be—the easy, effortless friendship that was as natural as breathing in and out—than the last few times I'd been with Kristoff while he was human. Odd that I should find that again here, when I'd thought this wolf thing was the cause of its loss.

The killings games continued in the clearing, and I stared at the hazy moon.


	21. vow

Everything was ready.

I was packed for my two-day visit with "Alice," and my bag waited for me on the passenger seat of my truck. I'd given the concert tickets to Angela, Ben, and Makayla. Jeremy's vacation had gotten delayed, which caused me some panic, but Makayla ended up buying a fourth ticket to invite Jeremy which made me feel relieved. Billy had borrowed Old Quil Ateara's boat and invited David down for some open sea fishing before the afternoon game started. Collin and Brady, the two youngest werewolves, were staying behind to protect La Push—though they were just children, both of them only thirteen. Still, David would be safer than anyone left in Forks.

I had done all that I could do. I tried to accept that, and put the things that were outside of my control out of my head, for tonight at least. One way or another, this would all be over in forty-eight hours. The thought was almost comforting.

Elsa had requested that I relax, and I was going to do my best.

"For this one night, can we try to forget everything besides just you and me?" she'd pleaded, unleashing the full force of her eyes on me. "It seems like I can never get enough time like that. I need to be with you. Just you."

That was not a hard request to agree to, though I knew that forgetting my fears would be much easier said than done. Because it was more than just my fears for the coming battle.

As I had sat gazing at the moon the night before—resting against a werewolf, no less—I had been thinking about my life and the path it had gone down. I was thinking about humanity. Mine, to be specific. I considered what it meant to be human, especially being human in a world surrounded by non-humans. I was thinking about what I had missed out on and what I still had a chance to experience. Human experiences. Elsa was always so quick to push me into human experiences.

I thought about what my life would be like constantly on the run from the Volturi, or if we ran out of places to run and the only option was to change me. What would those new lives look like? What human experiences would I be able to have? What would I miss? Most importantly, which would I be willing to give up?

I had to prioritize.

I thought about David, Renée, and all my friends at school. I thought about all the memories we could make together. Try a fishing trip with David, go on another road trip with my mom. Go see a concert with all my friends. I thought about Kristoff and the La Push pack. I thought about my days in Kristoff's garage laughing over warm sodas from brown paper bags. Could I let go of all of that?

I thought about my aspirations, I thought about what I desperately wanted. I thought about staying human and going to college. Part of me wistfully imagined going to culinary school. I did love to cook. I thought about traveling abroad and seeing different sights. I even, briefly, thought about marriage. As frightening of a notion that was to me, part of me wondered if maybe I needed to get over my aversion to the idea. I certainly wasn't opposed to the idea of being with Elsa forever.

All these thoughts had been racing through my head since the night before. All pushing and pulling against each other, vying to be in the forefront of my mind.

What would I give up, and what would I insist on? I wasn't totally sure.

If I had to let go of things, move on, and create a new life for myself, it needed to be worth it. More than just worth it, it needed to be amazing. I needed to make everything count, and I needed to seize every opportunity when I could, because I was running out of time to do so.

I was confused by how nervous I felt as I drove down the long path to Elsa's house—I didn't know why I suddenly had such serious jitters. Elsa sat in the passenger seat, fighting a smile at my slow pace. I was surprised that she hadn't insisted on taking the wheel, but tonight she seemed content to go at my speed.

It was after dark when we reached the house. In spite of that, the meadow was bright in the light shining from every window.

As soon as I cut the engine she was at my door, opening it for me. She lifted me from the cab with one arm, slinging my bag out of the truck bed and over her shoulder with the other. Her lips found mine as I heard her kick the trucks door shut behind me.

Without breaking the kiss, she swung me up so that I was resting in her arms and carried me into the house.

Was the front door already open? I didn't know. We were inside, though, and I was dizzy. I had to remind myself to breath.

The kissing did not frighten me. It wasn't like before when I could feel the fear and panic leaking through her control. Her lips were not anxious, but enthusiastic now—she seemed as thrilled as I was that we had tonight to concentrate on being together. She continued to kiss me for several minutes, standing there in the entry; she seemed less careful than usual, her mouth cold and urgent on mine.

I felt a wave of refreshed nervousness and I realized what made it different; it was an excited nervous.

With a low chuckle, she gently pulled me away.

"Welcome home," she said, her eyes liquid and warm.

"That sounds nice," I said, breathless.

She set me gently on my feet. I wrapped both my arms around her, not wanting any space between us.

"I have something for you," she said, her tone conversational.

"Oh?"

"Your hand-me-down, remember? You said that was allowable."

"Oh, that's right. I guess I did say that."

She chuckled at my reluctance.

"It's up in my room. Shall I go get it?"

Her bedroom? "Sure," I agreed, feeling a flutter of excitement in my stomach. "Let's go."

She must have been eager to give me my non-present, because human velocity was not fast enough for her. She scooped me up again and nearly flew up the stairs to her room. She set me down at the door, and darted into her closet.

She was back before I'd taken a step, scooped me up again, and set me down on the edge of the bed.

"Okay," I raised an eyebrow. "Let me have it."

Elsa laughed.

She climbed onto the bed, and I felt my heart thump unevenly as a new wave of butterflies fluttered through my stomach.

"A hand-me-down," she reminded me sternly. Her hands went behind my neck, and before I could react I felt something slide down the chain of my necklace.

I examined it cautiously. Next to the little wooden wolf, there now hung a brilliant heart-shaped crystal. It was cut in a million facets, so that even in the subdued light shining from the lamp, it sparkled. I inhaled a low gasp.

"It was my mother's." She shrugged deprecatingly. "I inherited quite a few baubles like this. I've given some to Esme and Alice both. So, clearly, this is not a big deal in any way."

I smiled ruefully at her assurance.

"But I thought it was a good representation," she continued. "It's hard and cold." She laughed. "And it throws rainbows in the sunlight."

"You forgot the other similarity," I murmured. "It's beautiful."

"My heart is just as silent," she mused. "And it, too, is yours."

I twisted the chain of the necklace so the heart would glimmer. "Thank you. For both."

"No, thankyou. It's a relief to have you accept a gift so easily. Good practice for you, too." She grinned, flashing her teeth.

I leaned into her, ducking my head under her arm and cuddling into her side. It probably felt similar to snuggling with Michaelangelo'sDavid, except that this beautiful marble creature wrapped her arms around me to pull me closer.

I realized what I wanted tonight.

"So, can we discuss something? Please try to be open-minded and hear me out."

She hesitated for a moment. "I'll give it my best effort," she agreed, cautious now.

"I'm not breaking any rules here," I promised. "This is strictly about you and me." I cleared my throat. "So… I was thinking… about human experiences. Specifically, ones that you wanted me to have, and ones that I wanted to have."

"Go on." She said, a smile in her voice.

"Well, I think it's fair to put…marriageon your list of human experiences."

"I suppose it's a partial human experience," she mused. "Given that only one of us is human. But, yes." She smiled.

"I still have my problems with that one." I said.

"Actually, if it helps, I did have a compromise for you regarding the marriage."

"A compromise?" I asked, eagerly.

"Yes," she stroked my cheek. "I understand you don't like making a big fuss, you don't care for parties, and you have your trepidations about everyone knowing you're married."

"All correct." I nodded.

"So, what if it doesn't have to be a big production? I don't need any fanfare. You won't have to tell anyone or make any changes. We'll go to Vegas—you can wear old jeans and we'll go to the chapel with the drive-through window. I just want it to be official—that I'm yours, and you are mine."

"Okay, that's a fair compromise." I cleared my throat again, trying to change the subject. "College is on your list, too?"

"It is," she said, but her eyes narrowed slightly. "And if marriage comes first, then what's mine would be yours… like tuition money. So there would be no problem with Dartmouth."

"Well, I think I'd need to actually have thegradesto get into Dartmouth, not just the tuition money."

"Alright, well, how about we discuss the marriage idea further." She grinned widely.

"Okay, okay," I was starting to feel flustered. "Here's the deal."

"The deal?"

I got to my knees and tried to look her in the eye but my face was red. "Okay, so we're alone. In your bedroom."

"Yes…" her eyes were cautious.

"And, yes, we have to be careful."

"Yes…" she said it slowly, her body was starting to tense.

I leaned in closer to her. I put my arms around her neck.

"Anna…" she breathed.

"So there are a few human experiences that I would really like to have…" I mumbled, "Number one tonight is… Um…"

I took a deep breath, and swung my leg over her so I was straddling her. Her hands moved quickly to my hips, and I could feel the tension in them. I leaned in and kissed her. My hands ran through her hair and I felt her grip tighten.

I started feeling dizzy from the lack of air. I pulled away from her for a second, her eyes were still somewhat cautious, I went in again for another kiss.

This time when I broke the kiss, I moved my lips along her jaw to her ear.

"I really want…" I felt my face go red. "I feel stupid saying it."

"Tell me," she breathed.

"It sounds so…dumb," I murmured. "But I just want to have a crazy, intense… make-out session with my girlfriend in her bed..."

My face was burning red. It felt stupid saying it out loud. It felt juvenile. But it's what I wanted. It was a human experience, one any teenager should have at least once in their life, right? And when you're on the run there probably isn't time for stuff like that.

Her grip was still tight on my hips. I cautiously leaned back to look at her face. I expected her to look anxious or reproachful. Instead, all I saw wasdesire.

"Do you think," I began quietly, "we could try that?"

A wickedly devious grin slowly spread across her beautiful face.

"Oh, yes mam."

Before I realized what was happening, she had spun me over onto the center of the bed. This time she was on top of me.

She began kissing my neck, slowly moving her way up to my jaw. My heart was racing. Her lips found mind and the kiss was intense and passionate. One of her hands was still firmly on my hip, but the other slid up my body towards my chest. Her hand went under my shirt and the touch of her cold skin against mine caused me to involuntarily arch my back.

My hands shot up and grabbed the collar of her shirt, pulling her deeper into the kiss. I felt her smile against my lips and my grip on her collar tightened.

I finally broke the kiss, purely for need of oxygen. Our eyes locked, I could only imagine the expression on my face was as intense as hers. I tugged, too hard, on her collar, coaxing her to turn over. She understood what I wanted and, in a flash, I was on top of her. Somewhere in the movement, I had accidentally ripped off a few of the buttons of her shirt leaving her stunning chest exposed.

I dove in, kissing my way up her chest to her neck. One of her hands was on my hip, the other was in my hair. While I kissed her neck, I tried to covertly unbutton the rest of her shirt. She realized what I was doing, and I felt her body tense up slightly.

I moved quickly to her lips again, this time I teased the outline of them with my tongue. She exhaled a moan of pleasure.

We were spinning again, and she was on top of me once more.

Her mouth was not gentle; there was a brand-new edge of conflict and desperation in the way her lips moved. I locked my arms around her neck, and, to my increasingly overheated skin, her body felt colder than ever. I trembled, but it was not from the chill.

She didn't stop kissing me. I was the one who had to break away, again gasping for air. Even then her lips did not leave my skin, they just moved to my throat. I couldn't keep myself from gasping. One of her hands gripped the wrought-iron bar of the bed's headboard above us, and the other pulled at my shirt. My fingers tangled in her hair.

"Elsa," I moaned her name.

I suddenly heard a keening groan and a sharp snapping sound from above me that made me jump.

Elsa froze.

My eyes shot up to her hand above me.

She had pulverized the metal bar of the headboard in her hand. I stared at the twisted metal in her vice-like grip with wide eyes. We both lay perfectly still, panting.

"Are you… okay?" I finally breathed.

"I think," she said slowly, "we need to stop."

Her eyes met mine, and though she looked anxious now, there was still desire in her eyes.

"Probably," I said. "But," I took a deep breath, "you want to go further."

It wasn't a question, it was a statement. I could see the look in her eyes and I knew thatIwanted to.

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath herself.

"You can't possibly imagine how very much I would like to."

"So…" I trailed off suggestively.

"I don't think that's possible now." She said it slowly, like she was trying to convince herself. "Later, when you're less breakable."

"IfI become less breakable."

"Anna, I don't—"

"Do you… want to?" I breathed.

Her closed eyes tightened. She paused for a long moment.

"Yes."

"Well, so do I."

"Anna, I could kill you," she whispered.

"I don't think you could."

Without opening her eyes, she carefully extended her arm out over the side of the bed. She opened her hand and the twisted hunk of metal clattered to the floor.

"Okay, obviously we got a little carried away," I said quietly. "But you don'twantto hurt me… so much so that I don't think that you ever could."

She started shaking her head before I was done.

"It might not work that way, Anna."

"Might," I pushed. "You have no more idea what you're talking about than I do."

"Exactly." She opened her eyes and they bored into mine. "Do you imagine I could ever take that kind of risk with you?"

I considered that for a moment.

"Maybe, if we were more careful?" I offered. I moved my hands to her shoulders, and I gently coaxed her open shirt off, sliding it slightly down her arms I saw she had on a blue bra. "Took it slow?"

"Anna," she breathed. "You will be the death of me, I swear."

I chuckled. "I'm sorry, I don't want to try and force you into something you don't want to do."

She managed to laugh then. "Believe me, Anna. I want to."

I smirked and tugged at my shirt, trying to lift it over my head. Her hand caught mine and her lips were at my ear.

"Anna," she murmured, her voice warm and velvet. "Would you please stop trying to take your clothes off."

"Would you like to do that part?" I asked, confused.

She chuckled. Her lips kissed gently along my cheek and jaw. "I would…" she trailed off.

"But?"

She sighed, and moved to lay beside me.

"I think it's my turn to be embarrassed," she smiled her crooked smile. "Because your vampire girlfriend is rather old fashioned."

I curled into her, confused. "What do you mean?"

"I want nothing in this whole world more than I want you." She said, stroking my cheek. "But there's just one rule I would like to leave unbroken."

"I'm confused."

"I want you, in this way," she began, "But I want to be married to you first."

I shot straight up in the bed, my eyes wide.

"Wait, what?"

"I don't think that's asking too much." She smiled.

"It's… a little old-fashioned." I finally said.

"As I said, so am I."

I stared at her, I felt like I was short on breath. When I didn't speak, she sat up.

"Anna, you believe I have a soul." She said quietly.

"Yes, I do."

"I don't know if I believe that, at least I didn't before I met you. But now, because of you, I'd believe that maybe I do have a soul. You've made me feel like so much more than the monster I am. You've made me feel… human again." She smiled. "And, if I am going to try to be as human as I can be, if I am to believe I have a soul, then I want to do things the right way."

I opened my mouth to speak, but she continued.

"I'm from a different era, Anna. Things were… much less complicated." She took my hands in hers. "Thankfully, we live in a time where I can even entertain the notion of marrying you. A time where I can hold your hand, declare my love for you in public without fear."

I nodded, unsure of what to say. She laughed.

"But, Anna, if I could have done things the way they were back then, I would have courted you the proper way. I wouldn't have coveted you so desperately, reached out and selfishly taken you. I would have sent you flowers and gifts every day. I would have gotten down on one knee."

She slid off the bed then, down onto her knee. My heart started pounding.

She reached into her pocket, "And I would have presented you with a ring." She pulled out a small black box.

I held my breath as she opened it. Nestled into the black satin inside the box, was the most beautiful ring I'd ever seen. The face was a rounded square, set with a large sparkling square stone in the center, surrounded by a border of smaller round stones. The band was silver—delicate and narrow, coming into filigree-like points holding the face. The silver made a fragile web around the diamonds. I'd never seen anything like it.

Unthinkingly, I stroked the shimmering gems.

"It's beautiful," I murmured.

"Do you like it?"

"Yes," I breathed.

"It was my mother's. I suppose it's a little outdated." Her tone was apologetic. "Old-fashioned, just like me."

"No, it's beautiful, Elsa."

"Anna?"

I looked up to meet her gaze.

"Anna Winters," She looked at me through her long lashes, her golden eyes soft but, somehow, still scorching. "I promise to love you forever—every single day of forever. Will you do me the extraordinary honor of marrying me?"

She took the ring from the box, and gently slid it on my finger. My eyes were wide. There were so many things I wanted to say, so many words that were caught in my throat. I felt my emotions bubble up and spill over as tears filled my eyes. I couldn't find many words, so I said the only one that really mattered, "Yes."

I could see the absolute elation fill her face as she rose to her feet. She scooped me off the bed and spun me in her arms. Then she kissed me, deeply and passionately.

 **so what did you think of this chapter and Anna saying yes to Elsa lol**


	22. trails

I hated to waste any part of the night in sleep, but that was inevitable. The sun was bright outside the window-wall when I woke, with small clouds scuttling too quickly across the sky. The wind rocked the treetops till the whole forest looked as if it was going to shake apart.

She kissed me gently, then left me alone to get dressed, and I appreciated the chance to sleep. Somehow, my entire night had gone completely differently than I had ever imagined it would. Somehow, though I wasn't upset. Maybe just surprised. I'd given back the beautiful ring as soon as I had woken up—afraid I'd lose it with my luck. Though it was no longer on my finger, my hand still felt heavier, like it was still there.

I had considered Elsa's compromise; a quiet, private affair—a road trip to Vegas. Jeans and a t-shirt, a short ceremony; no more than fifteen minutes. Nothing scary about that.

And then, when it was over, we'd be linked in every human way possible. Another human experience checked off the list. That wasn't so bad, at all. In fact, it was a pretty great deal.

She said I didn't have to tell anyone, though I was still deciding if I wanted to keep it a secret or not. Of course, it was very stupid of me to not think of Alice.

The Cullens got home around noon. There was a new, businesslike feel to the atmosphere around them, and it pulled me back into the enormity of what was coming.

Alice seemed to be in an unusually bad mood. I chalked it up to her frustration with feeling normal, because her first words to Elsa were a complaint about working with the wolves.

"Ithink"—she made a face as she used the uncertain word—"that you're going to want to pack for cold weather, Elsa. I can't see where you are exactly, because you're taking off with thatdogthis afternoon. But the storm that's coming seems particularly bad in that general area."

Elsa nodded.

"It's going to snow on the mountains," she warned her.

"Snow?" I muttered, "It's June for crying out loud."

"Wear a jacket," Alice told me. Her voice was unfriendly, and that surprised me. I tried to read her face, but she turned away.

I looked at Elsa, and she was smiling; whatever was bugging Alice amused her.

Elsa had more than enough camping gear to choose from—props in the human charade; the Cullens were good customers at the Newton's store. She grabbed a down sleeping bag, a small tent, and several packets of dehydrated food—grinning when I made a face at them—and stuffed them all in a backpack.

Alice wandered into the garage while we were there, watching Elsa's preparations without a word. She ignored her.

When she was done packing, Elsa turned to me. "Why don't you call Kristoff and tell him we'll be ready for him in an hour or so. He knows where to meet us."

Kristoff wasn't home, but Billy promised to call around until he could find an available werewolf to pass the news to.

"Don't you worry about David, Anna," Billy said. "I've got my part of this under control."

"Thanks, Billy. I know David will be fine." I didn't feel so confident about his son's safety, but I didn't add that.

"I wish I could be with the rest of them tomorrow." Billy chuckled regretfully. "Being an old man is a hardship, Anna."

I couldn't even begin to comprehend why every single person in my life seemed to jump at the chance to fight.

"Have fun with David."

"Good luck, Anna," he answered. "And… pass that along to the, er, Cullens for me."

"I will," I promised, surprised by the gesture.

I pocketed my phone, and turned back to Elsa and Alice. I saw that they were having some kind of silent discussion. She was staring at her, pleading in her eyes. She was frowning back, unhappy with whatever she wanted.

"Billy said to tell you 'good luck.'"

"That was generous of him," Elsa said, breaking away from her.

"Anna, could I please speak to you alone?" Alice asked swiftly.

"You're about to make my life much harder than it needs to be, Alice," Elsa warned her through her teeth. "I'd really rather you didn't."

"This isn't about you, Elsa," she shot back.

She laughed. Something about her response was funny to her.

"It's not," Alice insisted. "This is between Anna and myself."

She frowned.

"It's fine, Elsa, let her talk to me," I told her. I was curious.

"You asked for it," she muttered. She laughed again—half angry, half amused—and strode out of the garage.

I turned to Alice, worried now, but she didn't look at me. Her bad mood hadn't passed yet.

She went to sit on the hood of her Porsche, her face dejected. I followed, and leaned against the bumper beside her.

"Anna?" Alice asked in a sad voice, shifting over and curling up against my side. Her voice sounded so miserable that I wrapped my arms around her shoulders in comfort.

"What's wrong, Alice?"

"Don't you love me?" she asked in that same sad tone.

"Of course I do. You know that."

"Then why do I see you sneaking off to Vegas to get married without inviting me?"

"Oh," I muttered, my cheeks turning pink. I could see that I had seriously hurt her feelings, and I hurried to defend myself. "You know I don't like making a big deal out of things. It was Elsa's idea, anyway."

"It doesn't matter whose idea it was, Anna! It's the principle of the matter! I expect that kind of thing fromElsa, but not from you. I love you like you were my own sister."

"And I love you like a sister, Alice!"

"Words!" She sighed.

"Alice, of course you're invited. There won't be much to see, though."

She was still grimacing.

"What?' I pushed.

"Howmuchdo you love me, Anna?"

"Why?"

She stared at me with pleading eyes, her long black eyebrows slanting up in the middle and pulling together, her lips trembling at the corners. It was a heart-breaking expression.

"Please, please, please," she whispered. "Please, Anna, please… Please let me plan your wedding."

"Aw, Alice!" I sighed, pulling away and standing up. "Come on, don't do this right now. We're about to face an army of homicidal newborns and you're upset about a wedding?"

"I know, Anna, I know, but it would mean so much to me!"

I folded my arms across my chest. "Alice, this is unfair."

"I'll bet Elsa would like it better if you did this traditionally, though she'd never tell you that. And Esme—think what it would mean to her!"

I groaned. "I can't believe we're having this conversation right now."

"I'll owe you for a decade!"

"You'd owe me for a century!"

Her eyes glowed. "Is that a yes?"

"No! I don't want to do anything big and crazy!"

"You won't have to do anything but walk a few yards and then repeat after the minister."

"Ugh, Alice."

"Please?" She started bouncing in place. "Please, please, please, please, please?"

I couldn't help but smile a little, but I was fighting it hard. The smile broke through on the corners of my lips as I tried to give her a serious expression. "I'll never, never ever forgive you for this, Alice."

"Yay!" she squealed, clapping her hands together.

"It's not a complete yes, Alice!"

"But it will be," she sang.

"Elsa!" I called, walking out of the garage. "I know you're listening. Get over here." Alice was right behind me, still clapping.

"Thanks so much, Alice," Elsa said acidly, coming from behind me. I turned to voice my frustrations, but her expression was so worried and upset that I held my tongue. I sighed and wrapped my arms around her waist.

"Vegas," Elsa promised in my ear.

"Not a chance," Alice gloated. "Anna would never do that to me. You know, Elsa, as a sister, you are sometimes a disappointment."

"Don't be mean," I chided her. "Just because you're getting your way."

you like the idea! You're just nervous about it, and I understand why!" she was practically dancing. "We'll talk about every single detail and I promise you'll be the happiest bride in the world!"

I laughed. "Alright, Alice. I never thought I'd see the day where I'd be willing to take a bet against you, but it has arrived."

She laughed her silvery laugh. "So, are you going to show me the ring?"

I jumped as she grabbed my left hand and then dropped it just as quickly.

"Huh. I saw her put it on you… Did I miss something?" she asked. She was concentrated for half a second, furrowing her brow, before she answered her own questions. "No. Wedding's still on."

"Anna was nervous about losing it," Elsa explained.

"What's one more diamond? Well, I guess the ring has lots of diamonds, but my point is that she's already got one on—"

"Enough, Alice!" Elsa cut her off suddenly. The way she glared at her… she looked like a vampire again. "We're in a hurry."

"I don't understand. What's that about diamonds?" I asked.

"We'll talk about it later," Alice said. "Elsa is right — you'd better get going. You've got to set a trap and make camp before the storm comes." She frowned, and her expression was anxious, almost nervous. "Don't forget your coat, Anna. It seems . . . unseasonably cold."

"I've already got it," Elsa assured her.

"Have a nice night," she told us in farewell.

It was twice as far to the clearing as usual; Elsa took a long detour, making sure my scent would be nowhere near the trail Kristoff would hide later. She carried me in her arms, the bulky backpack in my usual spot.

She stopped at the farthest end of the clearing and set me on my feet.

"All right. Just walk north for some ways, touching as much as you can. Alice gave me a clear picture of their path, and it won't take long for us to intersect it."

"North?"

She smiled and pointed out the right direction.

I wandered into the woods, leaving the clear yellow light of the strangely sunny day in the clearing behind me. Maybe Alice's blurred sight would be wrong about the snow. I hoped so. The sky was mostly clear, though the wind whipped furiously through the open spaces. In the trees it was calmer, but much too cold for June — even in a long-sleeved shirt with a thick sweater over the top, there were goose bumps on my arms. I walked slowly, trailing my fingers over anything close enough: the rough tree bark, the wet ferns, the moss-covered rocks.

Elsa stayed with me, walking a parallel line about twenty yards away. "Am I doing this right?" I called.

"Perfectly."

I had an idea. "Will this help?" I asked as I ran my fingers through my hair and tugged out a few strands. I dropped them into the ferns.

"Yes, that does make the trail stronger. But you don't need to pull your hair out, Anna. It will be fine."

"I've got a few extra I can spare."

It was gloomy under the trees, and I wished I could walk closer to Elsa and hold her hand.

I dropped another hair into a broken branch that cut through my path.

"You don't need to let Alice have her way, you know," Elsa said.

"Don't worry about it, Elsa. I'm not going to leave you at the alter or something." The more I thought about it, I wasn't feeling totally opposed to Alice's idea of a beautiful wedding. Facing it head on, I was starting to think that maybe my opposition to the idea was, well,wrong.

"That's not what I'm worried about. I want this to be what you want it to be."

I repressed a sigh. "Stop worrying, Elsa. If Alice makes good on her promise to discuss everything with me, then, I think it'll be fine."

"Well, even then, we can just keep it small. Just us. Emmett can get a clerical license off the Internet."

I laughed. "There we go." I tried to pictureEmmettreading the vows, but it only made me laugh harder.

"See," she said with a smile. "There's always a compromise."

It took a while for me to reach the spot where the newborn army would be certain to cross my trail, but Elsa never got impatient with my pace.

She had to lead a bit more on the way back, to keep me on the same path. It all looked alike to me.

We were almost to the clearing when I fell. I could see the wide opening ahead, and that's probably why I got too eager and forgot to watch my feet. I caught myself before my head bashed into the nearest tree, but a small branch snapped off under my left hand and gouged into my palm.

"Ouch! Oh, fabulous," I muttered.

"Are you all right?"

"I'm fine. Stay where you are. I'm bleeding. It will stop in a minute."

She ignored me. She was right there before I could finish.

"I've got a first aid kit," she said, pulling off the backpack. "I had a feeling I might need it."

"It's not bad. I can take care of it—you don't have to make yourself uncomfortable."

"I'm not uncomfortable," she said calmly. "Here—let me clean it."

"Wait a second, I just got another idea."

Without looking at the blood and breathing through my mouth, just in case my stomach might react, I pressed my hand against a rock within my reach.

"What are you doing?"

"Jasper willlovethis," I muttered to myself. I started for the clearing again, pressing my palm against everything in my path. "I'll bet this really gets them going."

Elsa sighed.

"Hold your breath," I told her.

"I'm fine. I just think you're going overboard."

"This is all I get to do. I want to do a good job."

We broke through the last of the trees as I spoke. I let my injured hand graze across the ferns.

"Well, you have," Elsa assured me. "The newborns will be frantic, and Jasper will be very impressed with your dedication. Now let me treat your hand — you've gotten the cut dirty."

"Let me do it, please."

She took my hand and smiled as she examined it. "This doesn't bother me anymore."

I watched her carefully as she cleaned the gash, looking for some sign of distress. She continued to breathe evenly in and out, the same small smile on her lips.

"Why not?" I finally asked as she smoothed a bandage across my palm.

She shrugged. "I got over it."

"You…got over it? When? How?" I tried to remember the last time she'd held her breath around me. All I could think of was my wretched birthday party last September.

Elsa pursed her lips, seeming to search for the words. "I lived through an entire twenty-four hours thinking that you were dead, Anna. That changed the way I look at a lot of things."

"Did it change the way I smell to you?"

"Not at all. But… having experienced the way it feels to think I've lost you… my reactions have changed. My entire being shies away from any course that could inspire that kind of pain again."

I didn't know what to say to that.

She smiled at my expression. "I guess that you could call it a very educational experience."

The wind tore through the clearing then, pulling at my hair and making me shiver.

"All right," she said, reaching into her pack again. "You've done your part." She pulled out my heavy winter jacket and held it out for me to slide my arms in. "Now it's out of our hands. Let's go camping!"

I laughed at the mock enthusiasm in her voice.

She took my bandaged hand and kissed it gently, then my other hand—freshly out of the brace—and started toward the other side of the clearing.

"Where are we meeting Kristoff?" I asked.

"Right here." She gestured to the trees in front of us just as Kristoff stepped warily from their shadows.

It shouldn't have surprised me to see him human. I wasn't sure why I'd been looking for the big red-brown wolf.

Kristoff seemed bigger again—no doubt a product of my expectations; I must have unconsciously been hoping to see the smaller Kristoff from my memory, the easygoing friend who hadn't changed everything. He had his arms folded across his bare chest, a jacket clutched in one fist. His face was expressionless as he watched us.

Elsa's lips pulled down at the corners. "There had to have been a better way to do this."

"Too late now," I shrugged.

She sighed.

"Hey, Kristoff," I greeted him when we got closer.

"Hi, Anna."

"Hello, Kristoff," Elsa said.

Kristoff nodded once, and was immediately all business. "Where do I take her?"

Elsa pulled a map from a side pocket on the pack and offered it to him. Kristoff unfolded it.

"We're here now," Elsa said, reaching over to touch the right spot. Kristoff recoiled slightly from her hand, and then steadied himself. Elsa pretended not to notice.

"And you're taking her up here," Elsa continued, tracing a serpentine pattern around the elevation lines on the paper. "Roughly nine miles."

Kristoff nodded again.

"When you're about a mile away, you should cross my path. That will lead you in. Do you need the map?"

"No, thanks. I know this area pretty well. I think I know where I'm going."

Kristoff seemed to be working hard to keep his tone polite.

"I'll take a longer route," Elsa said. "And I'll see you in a few hours."

Elsa stared at me unhappily. She didn't like this part of the plan.

"See you," I murmured.

Elsa faded into the trees, heading in the opposite direction.

As soon as she was gone, Kristoff turned cheerful.

"What's up, Anna?" he asked with a big grin.

I chuckled darkly. "Same old, same old."

"Yeah," he agreed. "Bunch of vampires trying to kill you. The usual."

"The usual."

"Well," he said as he shrugged into his jacket to free his arms. "Let's get going."

I sighed, taking a small step closer to him. "Let's go." I agreed.

He bent down and swept his arm behind my knees, knocking them out from under me. His other arm caught me before my head hit the ground.

"Jerk," I muttered.

Kristoff chuckled, already running through the trees. He kept a steady pace, a brisk jog that a fit human could keep up with… across a level plane… if they weren't burdened with a hundred-plus pounds as he was.

"You don't have to run, Kristoff. You'll get tired."

"Running doesn't make me tired," he said. His breathing was even—like the fixed tempo of a marathoner. "Besides, it will be colder soon. I hope she gets the camp set up before we get there."

I tapped my finger against the thick padding of his parka. "I thought you didn't get cold now."

"I don't. I brought this for you, just in case you weren't prepared." He looked at my jacket, almost as if he were disappointed that I was.

"Oh. Thanks, Kristoff. That was sweet of you."

He nodded slightly, distracted. "I don't like the way the weather feels. It's making me edgy. Notice we haven't seen any animals?"

"Um, not really."

"I guess you wouldn't. Your senses aren't as sharp as mine."

I let that pass. "Alice was worried about the storm, too."

"It takes a lot to silence the forest this way. You picked a hell of a night for a camping trip."

"It wasn't entirely my idea."

The pathless way he took began to climb more and more steeply, but it didn't slow him down. He leapt easily from rock to rock, not seeming to need his hands at all. His perfect balance reminded me of a mountain goat.

"What's with the addition to your necklace?" he asked.

I looked down, and saw the crystal heart resting on my chest.

I shrugged guiltily. "Another graduation present."

He snorted. "A rock. Figures."

A rock? I was suddenly reminded of Alice's unfinished sentence outside the garage. I stared at the bright white crystal and tried to remember what Alice had been saying before… about diamonds. Could she have been trying to say thatshe's already got one on you? As in, I was already wearing one diamond from Elsa? No, that was impossible. The heart would have to be five carats or something crazy like that! Elsa wouldn't—

"So, it's been a while since you came down to La Push," Kristoff said, interrupting my conjectures.

"I've been busy," I told him. "Besides… I'm not sure if I would have visited, anyway."

He grimaced. "I was hoping you would have forgiven me by now."

"It wasn't that long ago."

He sighed. "Been thinking about that last time a lot, have you?"

"Not the way you want me to."

"I really am sorry, Anna. I wish there was a way I could prove that to you." His voice was low and husky.

I felt slightly uncomfortable having this conversation under the present conditions—with his too-warm arms wrapped tightly around me and his face so close to mine.

"Did you at least think about our conversation?" he asked.

"What about it?"

"See if it affects your decision at all, I mean."

"My decision is the same, Kristoff." I sighed.

"Can I ask you something?" He said after a second.

"What?"

"Is she a better kisser than I am?" He asked, suddenly very glum.

"I really couldn't say, Kristoff. Elsa is the only person I've ever kissed."

"Besides me."

"I think we established that didn't count as a kiss so much as an assault."

"Ouch! That's cold."

I shrugged. "It's the truth."

"I'll be apologizing for the rest of my life, huh?" He asked.

"I forgave you… mostly. It doesn't change the way it was."

He muttered something unintelligible.

It was quiet then for a while; there was just the sound of his measured breathing and the wind roaring high above us in the treetops. A cliff face rose sheer beside us, bare, rough, gray stone. We followed the base as it curved upward out of the forest.

"I'm not trying to sound like a broken record or something, Anna," Kristoff suddenly said, "I just think it's pretty irresponsible."

"What are you talking about?"

"Think about it, Anna. Like you said, you've only kissed one person—who isn't even really person—in your whole life, and you're calling it quits? How do you know that's what you want? Shouldn't you play the field a little?"

I kept my voice cool. "I know what I want."

"But it couldn't hurt to double check. Maybe you should try kissing someone else—just for comparison's sake… since what happened the other day doesn't count. You could kissme, for example. I don't mind if you want to use me to experiment."

He pulled me tighter against his chest, so that my face was closer to his. He was smiling at his joke, but I wasn't taking any chances.

"Behave yourself, Kristoff. I won't stop her if she wants to break your jaw."

He sighed, but he was still smiling. "Okay, but if youaskme to kiss you, she won't have any reason to get upset. She said that was fine."

"Don't hold your breath, Kristoff."

"You're in a bad mood today."

"I wonder why?"

"Sometimes I think you like me better as wolf."

"Sometimes I do. Maybe it's because you don't say or do things that upset me so badly."

He pursed his lips thoughtfully. "No, I don't think that's it. I think it's easier for you to be near me when I'm not human, because you don't have to pretend that you're not attracted to me."

My mouth fell open with a little popping sound. Something in the back of my head—a thought—started buzzing. I snapped my mouth shut.

He heard that. His lips pulled tightly across his face in a smile.

I took a slow breath before I spoke. "No. I'm pretty sure that's not it."

He sighed. "Come on, babe. Be honest with yourself. You have to know how aware you are of me. Physically, I mean."

"How could anyonenotbe aware of you physically, Kristoff?" I demanded. "You're an enormous oaf who lacks respect for anyone else's personal space."

"I make you nervous. But only when I'm human. When I'm a wolf, you're more comfortable around me."

"Maybe I'm nervous because I never know when you're going to misbehave when you're a human."

He stared down at me for a minute, slowing to a walk, the amusement draining from his face. His eyes narrowed, turned black in the shadow of his brows. His breathing, so regular as he ran, started to accelerate. His eyes searched mine, looking for something. He unconsciously leaned his face closer to mine.

My own breath caught for a moment, but I recovered quickly.

"It's your face, Kristoff" I reminded him.

He blinked a few times, then pulled his face back and started jogging again. "Sorry, sorry." He laughed loudly. "I don't really want to fight with your vampire tonight—I mean, any other night, sure. But we both have a job to do tomorrow, and I wouldn't want to leave the Cullens one short."

The sudden, unexpected swell of shame distorted my expression.

"I know, I know," he responded, not understanding. "You think she could take me."

I couldn't speak. It wasmybrilliant idea had left the Cullens one short. What if someone got hurt because of it? What if one the Cullens got hurt? Or one of the wolves? Or Kristoff?

"What's the matter, Anna?" The joking bravado vanished from his face, revealing my Kristoff underneath, like pulling a mask away. "If something I said upset you, I'm sorry. I was only kidding. I didn't mean anything—hey, are you okay? Don't cry, Anna," he pled.

I tried to pull myself together. "I'm not going to cry."

"What did I say?"

"It's nothing you said. It's just, well, it's me. It's my own fault. Something I did."

He stared at me, his eyes wide with confusion.

"Elsa isn't going to fight tomorrow," I whispered the explanation. "She's staying with me, instead."

He frowned. "You think this isn't going to work? That they'll find you here? Do you know something I don't know?"

"No, no. I'm not afraid of that. I just… I was trying to convince her to let me go to the clearing to help distract the newborns and it backfired completely and now she's staying with me…" I closed my eyes. "The worst part is, I didn't convince her tonotstay with me. I was selfish."

Kristoff was quiet.

I kept whispering, my eyes shut. "If anyone gets hurt, it will always be my fault. And even if no one does… It doesn't change the fact that I was selfish. She won't hold it against me, but I'll always feel guilty about it. Especially since I could have asked her to go, and I didn't." I felt just a tiny bit better, getting this off my chest. Even if I could only confess it to Kristoff.

He snorted. My eyes opened slowly, and I was sad to see that the hard mask was back.

"I can't believe she let you talk her out of going. I wouldn't miss this for anything."

I sighed. "I know."

"That doesn't mean anything, though." He was suddenly backtracking. "That doesn't mean that she loves you more than I do."

"Butyouwouldn't stay with me, even if I begged."

He pursed his lips for a moment, and I wondered if he would try to deny it. We both knew the truth. "That's only because I know you better," he said at last. "Everything's going to go without a hitch. Even if you'd asked me and I'd said no, you wouldn't be mad at me afterwards."

"If everything does go without a hitch, you're probably right. I wouldn't be mad. But the whole time you're gone, I'll be sick with worry, Kristoff. Crazy with it."

"Why?" he asked gruffly. "Why does it matter to you if something happens to me?"

"Don't say that. You know how much you mean to me, Kristoff. I'm sorry it's not in the way you want, but that's just how it is. You're my best friend. At least, you used to be. And still sometimes are… when you let your guard down."

He smiled the old smile that I loved. "I'm always that," he promised. "Even when I don't… behave as well as I should. Underneath, I'm always in here."

"I know. Why else would I put up with all of your crap?"

He laughed with me, and then his eyes were sad. "Whenare you going to figure out that you're in love with me, too?"

"Come on, Kristoff, don't ruin the moment."

"I'm not saying you don't love her. I'm not stupid. But it's possible to love more than one person at a time, Anna. I've seen it in action."

"I'm not Sam, Kristoff."

He wrinkled his nose, and changed the subject.

"We're not far now, I can smell her."

I sighed in relief.

He misinterpreted my meaning. "I'd happily slow down, Anna, but you're going to want to be under shelter beforethathits."

We both looked up at the sky.

A solid wall of purple-black cloud was racing in from the west, blackening the forest beneath it as it came.

"Wow," I muttered. "You'd better hurry, Kristoff. You'll want to get home before it gets here."

"I'm not going home."

I glared at him, suddenly anxious. "The tent's too small for you to camp with us, Kristoff."

"I'm not camping with you. Not technically—as in, sharing your tent or anything. I prefer the storm to the smell. But I'm sure your vampire will want to keep in touch with the pack for coordination purposes, and so I will graciously provide that service."

"I thought that was Olaf's job."

"He'll take over tomorrow, during the fight."

The reminder silenced me for a second. I stared at him, worry springing up again with sudden fierceness.

"I don't suppose there's any way you'd just stay since you're already here?" I suggested. "If Ididbeg? Or trade back a lifetime of servitude or something?"

"Tempting, but no. Then again, the begging might be interesting to see. You can give it a go if you like."

"There's really nothing,nothingat all I can say?"

"Nope. Not unless you can promise me a better fight. Anyway, Sam's calling the shots, not me."

That reminded me.

"Elsa told me something the other day… about you."

He bristled. "It's probably not true."

"Oh, really? You aren't second in command of the pack, then?"

He blinked, his face going blank with surprise. "Oh. That."

"How come you never told me that?"

"Why would I? It's no big thing."

"I don't know. Why not? It's interesting. So, how does that work? How did Sam end up as the Alpha, and you as the… the Beta?"

Kristoff chuckled at my invented term. "Sam was the first, the oldest. It made sense for him to take charge."

I frowned. "But shouldn't Jared or Paul be second, then? They were the next to change."

"Well… it's hard to explain," Kristoff said evasively.

"Try."

He sighed. "It's more about the lineage, you know? Sort of old-fashioned. Why should it matter who your grandpa was, right?"

I remembered something Kristoff had told me a long time ago, before either of us had known anything about werewolves.

"Didn't you say that Ephraim Black was the last chief the Quileutes had?"

"Yeah, that's right. Because he was the Alpha. Did you know that, technically, Sam's the chief of the whole tribe now?" He laughed. "Crazy traditions."

I thought about that for a second, trying to make all the pieces fit. "But you also said that people listened to your dad more than anyone else on the council, because he was Ephraim's grandson?"

"What about it?"

"Well, if it's about the lineage… shouldn't you be the chief, then?"

Kristoff didn't answer me. He stared into the darkening forest, as if he suddenly needed to concentrate on where he was going.

"Kristoff?"

"No. That's Sam's job." He kept his eyes on our pathless course.

"Why? His great-grandad was Levi Uley, right? Was Levi an Alpha, too?"

"There's only one Alpha," he answered automatically.

"So what was Levi?"

"Sort of a Beta, I guess." He snorted at my term. "Like me."

"That doesn't make sense."

"It doesn't matter."

"I just want to understand, Kristoff."

He finally met my confused gaze, and then sighed. "Yeah. I was supposed to be the Alpha."

My eyebrows pulled together. "Sam didn't want to step down?"

"Hardly. I didn't want to step up."

"Why not?"

He frowned, uncomfortable with my questions.

"I didn't want any of it, Anna. I didn't want anything to change. I didn't want to be some legendary chief. I didn't want to be part of a pack of werewolves, let alone their leader. I wouldn't take it when Sam offered."

I thought about this for a long moment. Kristoff didn't interrupt. He stared into the forest again.

"But I thought you were happier. That you were okay with this," I finally whispered.

Kristoff smiled down at me reassuringly. "Yeah. It's really not so bad. Exciting sometimes, like with this thing tomorrow. But at first it sort of felt like being drafted into a war you didn't know existed. There was no choice, you know? And it was so final." He shrugged. "Anyway, I guess I'm glad now. It has to be done, and could I trust someone else to get it right? It's better to make sure myself."

I stared at him, feeling an unexpected kind of awe for my friend. He was more of a man than I'd ever given him credit for. Like with Billy the other night at the bonfire, there was a majesty here that I'd never suspected.

"Chief Kristoff," I whispered, smiling at the way the words sounded together.

He rolled his eyes.

"It's kind of sexy." I impulsively teased, but I regretted it immediately seeing the way he smirked in response.

"Oh, is it?" He grinned.

"I didn't mean to give you any ideas." I sighed.

He laughed.

Just then, the wind shook more fiercely through the trees around us, and it felt like it was blowing straight off a glacier. The sharp sound of wood cracking echoed off the mountain. Though the light was vanishing as the grisly cloud covered the sky, I could still see the little white specks that fluttered past us.

Kristoff stepped up the pace, keeping his eyes on the ground now as he flat out sprinted. I curled more willingly against his chest, recoiling from the unwelcome snow.

It was only minutes later that he dashed around to the lee side of the stony peak and we could see the little tent nestled up against the sheltering face. More flurries were falling around us, but the wind was too fierce to let them settle anywhere.

"Anna!" Elsa called out in acute relief. We'd caught her in the middle of pacing back and forth across the little open space.

She flashed to my side, sort of blurring as she moved so swiftly. Kristoff cringed, and then set me on my feet. Elsa ignored his reaction and caught me in a tight hug.

"Thank you," Elsa said over my head. Her tone was unmistakably sincere. "That was quicker than I expected, and I truly appreciate it."

I twisted to see Kristoff's response.

Kristoff merely shrugged, his face looked sad to me. "Get her inside. This is going to be bad—my hair's standing up on my scalp. Is that tent secure?"

"I all but welded it to the rock."

"Good."

Kristoff looked up at the sky—now black with the storm, sprinkled with the swirling bits of snow. His nostrils flared.

"I'm going to change," he said. "I want to know what's going on back home."

He hung his jacket on a low, stubby branch, and walked into the murky forest without a backward glance.


	23. fire and ice

The wind shook the tent again, and I shook with it.

The temperature was dropping. I could feel it through the down bag, through my jacket. I was fully dressed, my hiking boots still laced into place. It didn't make any difference. How could it be so cold? How could itkeepgetting colder? It had to bottom out sometime, didn't it?

"W-w-w-w-w-what t-t-t-t-time is it?" I forced the words through my rattling teeth.

"Two," Elsa answered.

Elsa sat as far from me as possible in the cramped space, afraid to even breathe on me when I was already so cold. It was too dark to see her face, but her voice was wild with worry, indecision, and frustration.

"Maybe…"

"No, I'm f-f-f-f-f-fine, r-r-r-really. I don't w-w-w-want to g-go outside."

She'd tried to talk me into making a run for it a dozen times already, but I was terrified of leaving my shelter. If it was this cold in here, protected from the raging wind, I could imagine how bad it would be if we were running through it.

And it would waste all our efforts this afternoon. Would we have enough time to reset ourselves when the storm was over? What if it didn't end? It made no sense to move now. I could shiver my way through one night.

I was worried that the trail I had laid would be lost, but she promised that it would still be plain to the coming monsters.

"What can I do?" she almost begged.

I just shook my head.

Out in the snow, Kristoff whined unhappily.

"G-g-g-get somewhere w-w-w-warm, k-k-k-Kristoff" I ordered, again.

"He's just worried about you," Elsa translated. "He's fine.Hisbody is equipped to deal with this."

"H-h-h-h-h-h-h." I wanted to say that he could still leave, but I couldn't get it past my teeth. I nearly bit my tongue off trying. At least Kristoffdidseem to be well equipped for the snow, better even than the others in his pack with his thicker, longer, shaggy russet fur. I wondered why that was.

Kristoff whimpered, a high-pitched, grating sound of complaint.

"What do you want me to do?" Elsa growled, too anxious to bother with politeness anymore. "Carry her throughthat? I don't see you making yourself useful. Why don't you go fetch a space heater or something."

"I'm ok-k-k-k-k-k-kay," I protested. Judging from Elsa,'s groan and the muted growl outside the tent, I hadn't convinced anyone. The wind rocked the tent roughly, and I shuddered in harmony with it.

A sudden howl ripped through the roar of the wind, and I covered my ears against the noise. Elsa scowled.

"That was hardly necessary," she muttered. "And that's the worst idea I've ever heard," she called more loudly.

"Better than anything you've come up with," Kristoff answered, his human voice startling me. "Go fetch a space heater," he grumbled. "I'm not a St. Bernard."

I heard the sound of the zipper around the tent door pulling swiftly down.

Kristoff slid through the smallest opening he could manage, while the Arctic air flowed in around him, a few flecks of snow falling to the floor of the tent. I shivered so hard it was a convulsion.

"I don't like this," Elsa hissed as Kristoff zipped the tent door shut. "Just give her the coat and get out."

My eyes were adjusting enough to see shapes—Kristoff was carrying the parka that had been hanging on a tree next to the tent.

I tried to ask what they were talking about, but all that came out of my mouth was, "W-w-w-w-w-w," as the shivering made me stutter uncontrollably.

"The parka's for tomorrow—she's too cold to warm it up by herself. It's frozen." He dropped it by the door. "You said she needed a space heater, and here I am." Kristoff held his arms as wide as the tent allowed. As usual, when he'd been running around as a wolf, he'd only thrown on the bare essentials—just a pair of sweats, no shirt, no shoes.

"K--k--Kristoff, you'll f-f-f-freez-z-z-ze," I tried to complain.

"Not me," he said cheerfully. "I run a toasty one-oh-eight point nine these days. I'll have you sweating in no time."

Elsa snarled, but Kristoff didn't even look at him. Instead he crawled to my side and started unzipping my sleeping bag.

Elsa's hand was suddenly hard on his shoulder, restraining, snow white against the dark skin. Kristoff's jaw clenched, his nostrils flaring, his body recoiling from the cold touch. The long muscles in his arms flexed automatically.

"Get your hand off of me," he growled through his teeth.

"Keep your hands off of her," Elsa answered blackly.

"D-d-d-don't f-f-f-f-fight," I pleaded. Another tremor rocked through me. It felt like my teeth were going to shatter, they were slamming together so hard.

"I'm sure she'll thank you for this when her toes turn black and drop off," Kristoff snapped.

Elsa hesitated, then her hand fell away and she slid back to her position in the corner.

Her voice was flat and frightening. "Watch yourself."

Kristoff chuckled.

"Scoot over, Anna," he said, zipping the sleeping bag open farther.

I stared at him in shock. No wonder Elsa was reacting this way.

"N-n-n-n-n," I tried to protest.

He stopped and looked at me seriously. "Anna, please let me help you. I can't stand watching you freeze when I can do something to help. Please? I'm asking your permission."

I glanced at Elsa, her face was grave and unhappy. Then I glanced back at Kristoff's serious face. I was desperate to just not becold. So I nodded once.

Kristoff immediately crammed his body into the nonexistent space, forcing the zipper up behind himself.

And then I couldn't believe I had objected at all. He was so warm. His arms wrapped around me, holding me snugly against his bare chest. The heat was irresistible, like air after being underwater for too long. He cringed when I pressed my icy fingers eagerly against his skin.

"Jeez, you're freezing, Anna," he complained.

"S-s-s-s-s-sorry," I muttered.

"Try to relax," he suggested as another shiver rippled through me violently. "You'll be warm in a minute. Of course, you'd warm up faster if you took your clothes off."

Elsa growled sharply.

"That's just a simple fact," Kristoff defended himself. "Survival one-oh-one."

Kristoff yelped when I pinched him. "C-c-cut it out Kristoff," I said angrily.

"Don't worry about the vampire," Kristoff suggested, and his tone was smug. "She's just jealous."

"Of course I am." Elsa's voice was velvet again, under control, a musical murmur in the darkness. "You don't have the faintest idea how much I wish I could do what you're doing for her, mongrel."

"Those are the breaks," Kristoff said lightly, but then his tone soured. "At least you know she wishes it was you."

"True," Elsa agreed.

The shuddering slowed, became bearable while they wrangled.

"There," Kristoff said, pleased. "Feeling better?"

I was finally able to speak clearly. "Yes."

"Your lips are still blue," he mused. "Want me to warm those up for you, too? You only have to ask."

Elsa sighed heavily.

"Behave yourself," I muttered, pressing my face against his cold shoulder. He flinched again when my cold skin touched his, and I smirked.

It was already warm and snug inside the sleeping bag. Kristoff's body heat seemed to radiate from every side—maybe because there was somuchof him. I kicked my boots off, and pushed my toes against his legs. He jumped slightly, and then leaned his head down to press his hot cheek against my numb ear.

I noticed that Kristoff's skin had a woodsy, masculine scent—it fit the setting, here in the middle of the forest. It was nice. I wondered if the Cullens and the Quileautes weren't just playing up that whole odor issue because of their prejudices. Everyone smelled fine to me. In fact, Kristoff's familiar scent had me remembering a day in La Push with Kristoff before all of this mess. When we were just two human friends, and he was almost… When I almost… When we could have…

The storm howled like an animal attacking the tent, but it didn't worry me now. Kristoff was out of the cold, and so was I. Plus, I was simply too exhausted to worry about anything—tired from just staying awake so late, and aching from the muscle spasms. My body relaxed as I thawed, piece by frozen piece, and then turned limp.

"Kristoff?" I mumbled sleepily. "Can I ask you something? I'm not trying to be a jerk or anything, I'm honestly curious." They were the same words he'd used in my kitchen… how long ago was it now?

"Sure," he chuckled, remembering.

"Why are you so much furrier than your friends? You don't have to answer if I'm being rude." I didn't know the rules for etiquette as they applied to werewolf culture.

"Because my hair is longer," He said, amused—my question hadn't offended him, at least. He shook head so that his unkempt hair—grown out to his chin now—tickled my cheek.

"Oh." I was surprised, but it made sense. So that was why they'd all cropped their hair in the beginning, when they joined the pack. "Then why don't you cut it? Do you like to be shaggy?"

He didn't answer right away this time, and Elsa laughed under her breath.

"Sorry," I said, pausing to yawn. "I didn't mean to pry. You don't have to tell me."

Kristoff made an annoyed sound. "Oh, she'll tell you anyway, so I might as well… I was growing my hair out because… it seemed like you liked it better long."

"Oh." I felt awkward. "I, er, like it both ways, Kristoff. You don't need to be… inconvenienced."

He shrugged. "Turns out it was very convenient tonight, so don't worry about it."

I didn't have anything else to say. As the silence lengthened, my eyelids drooped shut, and my breathing grew slower, more even.

"That's right, babe, go to sleep," Kristoff whispered.

I sighed, content, already half-unconscientious.

"Olaf is here," Elsa muttered to Kristoff, and I suddenly understood the point of the howling.

"Perfect. Now you can keep an eye on everything else, while I take care of your girlfriend for you."

Elsa didn't answer, but I groaned groggily. "Stop it," I muttered.

It was quiet then, inside at least. Outside, the wind shrieked insanely through the trees. The shimmying of the tent made it hard to sleep. The poles would suddenly jerk and quiver, pulling me back from the edge of unconsciousness each time I was close to slipping under. I felt so bad for the wolf, the boy that was stuck outside in the snow.

My mind wandered as I waited for sleep to find me. This warm little space made me think of the early days with Kristoff, and I remembered how it used to be when he was my replacement sun, the warmth that made brightened even my darkest days. It had been a while since I'd thought of Kristoff that way, but there he was, warming me again.

"Please!" Elsa hissed. "Do youmind!"

"What?" Kristoff whispered back, his tone surprised.

"Do you think you couldattemptto control your thoughts?" Elsa's low whisper was furious.

"No one said you had to listen," Kristoff muttered, defiant, yet still embarrassed. "Get out of my head."

"I wish Icould. You have no idea how loud your little fantasies are. It's like you're shouting them at me."

"Don't make me sound like some pervert," Kristoff hissed. "I'll try to keep it down," he whispered sarcastically.

There was a brief moment of silence.

"Yes," Elsa answered an unspoken thought in a murmur so low I barely made it out. "I'm jealous of that, too."

"I figured it was like that," Kristoff whispered smugly. "Sort of evens the playing field up a little, doesn't it?"

Elsa chuckled. "In your dreams."

"You know, she could still change her mind," Kristoff challenged. "Consideringallthe things I could do with her that you can't. At least, not without killing her, that is."

"Go to sleep, Kristoff," Elsa murmured. "You're starting to get on my nerves."

"I think I will. I'm really very comfortable."

Elsa didn't answer.

I was too far gone to ask them to stop talking about me like I wasn't there. The conversation had taken on a dreamlike quality to me, and I wasn't sure I was really awake.

"Maybe I would," Elsa said after a moment, answering a question I hadn't heard.

"But would you be honest?"

"You can always ask and see." Elsa's tone made me wonder if I was missing out on a joke.

"Well, you see inside my head—let me see inside yours tonight, it's only fair," Kristoff said.

"Your head is full of questions. Which one do you want me to answer?"

The jealousy… ithasto be eating at you. You can't be as sure of yourself as you seem. Unless you have no emotions at all."

"Of course it is," Elsa agreed, no longer amused. "Right now it's so bad that I can barely control my voice. Of course, it's even worse when she's away from me, with you, and I can't see her."

"Do you think about it all the time?" Kristoff whispered. "Does it make it hard to concentrate when she's not with you?"

"Yes and no," Elsa said; she seemed determined to answer honestly. "My mind doesn't work quite the same as yours. I can think of many more things at one time. Of course, that means that I'malwaysable to think of you, always able to wonder if that's where her mind is, when she's quiet and thoughtful."

They were both still for a minute.

"Yes, I would guess that she thinks about you often," Elsa murmured in response to Kristoff's thoughts. "More often than I like. She worries that you're unhappy. Not that you don't know that. Not that you don'tusethat."

"I don't mean to," Kristoff muttered. "I get wrapped up sometimes and I just… I don't know… It's harder for me. I'm not working with your advantages—advantages like her knowing she's in love with you."

"That helps," Elsa agreed in a mild tone.

Kristoff was defiant. "She's in love with me, too, you know."

Elsa didn't answer.

Kristoff sighed. "But shedoesn'tknow it."

"I can't tell you if you're right."

"Does that bother you? Do you wish you could see what she's thinking, too?"

"Yes… and no, again. She likes it better this way, and, though it sometimes drives me insane, I'd rather she was happy."

The wind ripped around the tent, shaking it like an earthquake. Kristoff's arms tightened around me protectively.

"Thank you," Elsa whispered. "Odd as this might sound, I suppose I'm glad you're here, Kristoff."

"You mean, 'as much as I'd love to kill you, I'm glad she's warm,' right?"

"It's an uncomfortable truce, isn't it?"

Kristoff's whisper was slightly smug. "I knew you were just as crazy jealous as I am."

"I'm not such a fool to wear it on my sleeve like you do. It doesn't help your case, you know."

"You have more patience than I do."

"I should. I've had a hundred years to gain it. A hundred years of waiting forher."

"So… at what point did you decide to play the very patient good girl?"

"When I saw how much it was hurting her to make her choose. It's not usually this difficult to control. I can smother the… less civilized feelings I may have for you fairly easily most of the time. Sometimes I think she sees through me, but I can't be sure."

"I think you were just worried that if you really forced her to choose, she might not choose you."

Elsa didn't answer right away. "That was part of it," she finally admitted. "But only a small part. We all have our moments of doubt. Mostly I was worried that she'd hurt herself trying to sneak away to see you. After I'd accepted that she was more less safe with you—as safe as Anna ever is—it seemed best to stop driving her to extremes."

Kristoff sighed. "I'd tell her all of this, but she'd never believe me."

"I know." It sounded like Elsa was smiling.

"You think you know everything," Kristoff muttered.

"I don't know the future," Elsa said, her voice suddenly unsure.

There was a long pause.

"What would you do if she changed her mind?" Kristoff asked.

"I don't know that either."

Kristoff chuckled quietly. "Would you try to kill me? Sarcastic again, as if doubting Elsa's ability to do it.

"No."

"Why not?" Kristoff's tone was still jeering.

"Do you really think I would hurt her that way?"

Kristoff hesitated for a second, and then he sighed. "Yeah, you're right. I know that's right. But sometimes…"

"Sometimes it's an intriguing idea."

Kristoff pressed his face into the sleeping bag to muffle his laughter. "Exactly," he eventually agreed.

What a strange dream this was. I wondered if it was the relentless wind that made me imagine all the whispering. Only the wind was screaming rather than whispering…

"What is it like? Losing her?" Kristoff asked after a quiet moment, and there was no hint of humor in his suddenly hoarse voice. "When you thought that you'd lost her forever? How did you… cope?"

"That's very difficult for me to talk about."

Kristoff waited.

"There were two different time that I thought that." Elsa spoke each word just a little slower than normal. "The first time, when I thought I could leave her… that was… almost bearable. Because I thought she would forget me and it would be like I hadn't touched her, life. For over six months I was able to stay away, able to keep my promise that I wouldn't interfere again. It was getting close—I was fighting but I knew I wasn't going to win; I would have come back… just to check on her. That's what I would have told myself, anyway. And if I'd found her reasonably happy… I like to think that I could have gone away again.

"And that's the real trouble, isn't it? She was happy. She could have been happy. She would have recovered from me, eventually. Because she had you. I've seen the thoughts of everyone here in Forks who watched her slowly heal, because of you… But she did take me back. She forgave me." Elsa paused. "You were wondering before what she said to get me to stay with her tomorrow. It wasn't anything she said or did. It was that, for a moment, I remembered what leaving her before did—the damage it's caused—that I'm still dealing with now. You, actually. Of all the damage my leaving caused, I think you might be the most lasting." Elsa chuckled then. "I won't ever leave her again."

Kristoff didn't respond for a moment, listening to the storm or digesting what he'd heard, I didn't know which.

"And the other time—when you thought she was dead?" Kristoff whispered roughly.

"Yes." Elsa answered a different question. "It will probably feel like that to you, won't it? The way you perceive us, you might not be able to see her asAnnaanymore. But that's who she'll be. If she chooses that path."

"That's not what I asked."

Elsa's voice came back fast and hard. "I can't tell you how it felt. There aren't words."

Kristoff's arms flexed around me.

"But you left because you didn't want to make her a bloodsucker. Youwanther to be human."

Elsa spoke slowly. "Kristoff, from the second I realized that I loved her, I knew there were only four possibilities. The first alternative, the best one for Anna, would be if she didn't feel as strongly for me—if she got over me and moved on. I would accept that, though it would never change the way I felt. You think of me as a… living stone—hard and cold. That's true. We are set the way we are, and it is very rare for us to experience a real change. When that happens, as when Anna entered my life, it is a permanent change. There's no going back…

"The second alternative, the one I'd originally chosen, was to stay with her throughout her human life. It wasn't a good option for her, to waste her life with someone who couldn't be human with her, but it was the alternative I could most easily face. Knowing all along that, when she died, I would find a way to die, too. Sixty years, seventy years—it would seem like a very, very short time to me… But then it proved much too dangerous for her to live in such close proximity with my world. It seemed like everything that could go wrong did. Or hung over us… waiting to go wrong. I was terrified that I wouldn't get those sixty years if I stayed near her while she was human."

"So I chose option three. Which turned out to be the worst mistake of my very long life, as you know. I chose to take myself out of her world, hoping to force her into the first alternative. It didn't work, and it very nearly killed us both.

"What do I have left now? She's undecided about what course of action she wants. It's the fourth option, if you will. If it's what she wants… I don't know if I can stop her from choosing it. Choosing to become like me. For the time being, we're trapped between the second and this horrible fourth alternative."

"I like option one," Kristoff muttered.

Elsa didn't respond.

"You knowexactlyhow much I hate to accept this," Kristoff whispered slowly, "but I can see that you do love her… in your way. I can't argue with that anymore. Given that, I don't think you should give up on the first alternative, not yet. I think there's a very good chance that she would be okay. After time. You know, if she hadn't jumped off a cliff in March… and if you'd waited another six months to check on her… Well, you would have found her perfectly happy. I had a game plan."

Elsa chuckled. "I know I would have. It was a well thought-out plan." She sighed. "And even I'm not so stubborn that I would deny that it was working."

"Yeah." Kristoff sighed. "But…," suddenly he was whispering so fast the words got tangled, "give me year, Elsa. I really think I could make her happy again. She's stubborn, no one knows that better than I do, but she's capable of healing. She was almost healed before. And she could be human, with David and Renée, and she could grow up we could have kids, live a long happy life, and… be Anna.

"You love her enough that you have to see the advantages of that plan. She thinks you're very unselfish… are you really? Can you consider the idea that I might be better for her than you are?"

"Ihaveconsidered it," Elsa answered quietly. "In some ways, you would be better suited for her than another human. Anna would be protected by you, you're strong enough to protect her from everything and anything in this world that could harm her. Youhavedone that already, and I'll owe you for that as long as I live—forever—whichever comes first…

"I even asked Alice if she could see that—see if Anna would be better off with you. She couldn't, of course. She can't see you, and then Anna's sure of her course, for now.

"But I'm not stupid enough to make the same mistake I made before, Kristoff. I won't try to force her into that first option again. As long as she wants me, I'm here."

"And if she were to decide that she wanted me?" Kristoff challenged. "Okay, it's a long shot, I'll give you that."

"I would let her go."

"Just like that?"

"In the sense that I'd never show her how hard it was for me, yes. But I would keep watch. You see, Kristoff,youmight leavehersomeday. You're only human… mostly."

Kristoff snorted quietly. "I can promise you I never would." He took a deep breath. "Well, you've been much more honest than I had any right to expect…. Elsa. Thanks for letting me in your head."

"As I said, I'm feeling oddly grateful for your presence in her life tonight. It was the least I could do… You know, Kristoff, if it weren't for the fact that we're natural enemies and that you're also trying to steal away the reason for my existence, I might actually like you."

"Maybe, if you weren't a disgusting vampire who was planning to suck the life out of the girl I love… Well, no, probably not even then. Probably."

Elsa chuckled.

"Can I ask you something?" Elsa said after a moment.

"Why would you have to ask?"

"I can only hear it if you think of it. It's just a story that Anna seemed reluctant to tell me about the other day. Something about a third wife…?"

"What about it?"

Elsa didn't answer, listening to the story in Kristoff's head. I heard her low hiss in the darkness.

"What?" Kristoff demanded again.

"Of course," Elsa seethed. "Of course! I rather wish your elders had keptthatstory to themselves, Kristoff."

"You don't like the leeches being painted as the bad guys?" Kristoff mocked. "You know, theyare. Thenandnow."

"I really couldn't care less about that part. Can't you guess which character Anna would identify with?"

It took Kristoff a minute. "Oh. Ugh. The third wife. Okay, I see your point."

"She wants to be there in the clearing. To do what little she can, as she puts it." She sighed. "That was the second reason for my staying with her tomorrow. She's quite inventive when she wants something."

"You know, your military brother gave her the idea just as much as the story did."

"Neither side meant any harm," Elsa whispered, peace-making now.

"And when doesthislittle truce end?" Kristoff asked. "First light? Or do we wait until after the fight?"

There was a pause as they both considered.

"First light," they whispered together, and then laughed quietly.

"Sleep well, Kristoff," Elsa murmured. "Enjoy the moment."Cuddled up to my mate. Vampires are not like humans boy change is rare for us I love her and because I'm immortal I'm stuck loving her for eternity.Shes human things change for her so if she picks you I'll be eternally miserable .

It was quiet again, and the tent held still for a few minutes. The wind seemed to have decided that it wasn't going to flatten us after all, and was giving up the fight.

Elsa groaned softly. "I didn't mean that quite so literally."

"Sorry," Kristoff whispered. "You could leave, you know—give us a little privacy."

"Would you like me tohelpyou sleep, Kristoff?" Elsa offered.

"You could try," Kristoff said, unconcerned. "It would be interesting to see who walked away, wouldn't it?"

"Don't tempt me too far, wolf. My patience isn'tthatperfect."

Kristoff whispered a laugh. "I'd rather not move just now, if you don't mind."

Elsa started humming to herself, louder than usual—trying to drown out Kristoff's thoughts, I assumed. But it was my lullaby she hummed, and, despite my growing discomfort with this whispered dream, I sank deeper into unconsciousness… into other dreams that made better sense…

 **so I hope I explained the mate thing good enough. And what did you think of Kristoff and Elsa's talk**


	24. hurting

**yes guys a vampires mate is a soulmate. also is this chapter good enough.**

When I woke up in the morning, it was very bright—even inside the tent, the sunlight hurt my eyes. And Iwassweating, as Kristoff had predicted. Kristoff was snoring lightly in my ear, his arms still wrapped around me.

I pulled my head away from his feverishly warm chest and felt the sting of the cold morning on my clammy cheek. Kristoff sighed in his sleep; his arms tightened unconsciously.

I squirmed, unable to loosen his hold, struggling to lift my head enough to see…

Elsa met my gaze evenly. Her expression was calm, but the pain in her eyes was unconcealed.

"Is it any warmer out there?" I whispered.

"Yes. I don't think the space heater will be necessary today."

I tried to get to the zipper, but I couldn't free my arms. I strained, fighting against Kristoffs inert strength. Kristoff muttered, still fast asleep, his arms constricting again.

"Some help?" I asked quietly.

Elsa smiled. "Did you want me to take his arms all the way off?"

"No, Elsa. Just get me free. I'm going to get heat stroke."

Elsa unzipped the sleeping bag in a swift, abrupt movement. Kristoff fell out, his bare back hitting the icy floor of the tent.

"Hey!" he complained, his eyes flying open. Instinctively, he flinched away from the cold, rolling onto me. I gasped as his weight knocked the breath out of me.

And then his weight was gone. I felt the impact as Kristoff flew into one of the tent poles and the tent shuddered.

The growling erupted from all around. Elsa was crouching in front of me, and I couldn't see her face, but the snarls were ripping angrily out of her chest. Kristoff was half-crouched, too, his whole body quivering, while growls rumbled through his clenched teeth. Outside the tent, Olaf Clearwater's vicious snarls echoed off the rocks.

"Stop it, stop it!" I yelled, scrambling awkwardly to put myself between them. The space was so small that I didn't have to stretch far to put one hand on each of their chests. Elsa wrapped her hand around my waist, ready to yank me out of the way.

"Stop it, now," I warned her.

Under my touch, Kristoff began to calm himself. The shaking slowed, but his teeth were still bared, his eyes furiously focused on Elsa. Olaf continued to growl, a long unbroken sound, a violent background to the sudden silence in the tent.

"Kristoff?" I asked, waiting until he finally dropped his glare to look at me. "Are you hurt?"

"Of course not!" he hissed.

I turned to Elsa. She was looking at me, her expression hard and angry. "That wasn't nice. You need to apologize."

Her eyes widened in disgust. "You must be joking—he was crushing you!"

"Because you dumped him on the floor! He didn't do it on purpose, and he didn't hurt me."

Elsa groaned, revolted. Slowly, she looked up to glare at Kristoff with hostile eyes. "My apologies, dog."

"No harm done," Kristoff said, a taunting edge to his voice.

It was still cold, though not as cold as it had been. I curled my arms around my chest.

"Here," Elsa said, calm again. She took the parka off the floor and wrapped it over the top of my coat.

"That's Kristoff's," I objected.

"Kristoff has a fur coat," Elsa hinted.

"I'll just use the sleeping bag again, if you don't mind." Kristoff ignored her, climbing around us and sliding into the down bag. "I wasn't quite ready to wake up. That wasn't the best night's sleep I ever had."

"It was your idea," Elsa said impassively.

Kristoff curled up, his eyes already closed. He yawned. "I didn't say it wasn't the best night I've ever spent. Just that I didn't get a lot of sleep. I thought Anna was never going to stop talking."

I winced, wondering what might have come out of my mouth in my sleep. The possibilities were horrifying.

"I'm glad you enjoyed yourself," Elsa murmured.

Kristoff's dark eyes fluttered open. "Didn't you have a nice night, then?" he asked, smug.

"It wasn't the worst night of my life."

"Did it make the top ten?" Kristoff asked, amused.

"Possibly."

Kristoff smiled and closed his eyes.

"But," Elsa went on, "if I had been able to take your place last night, it would not have made the top ten of thebestnights of my life. Dream about that."

Kristoff's eyes opened into a glare. He sat up stiffly, his shoulders tense.

"You know what? I think it's too crowded in here."

"I couldn't agree more."

I elbowed Elsa in the ribs—probably giving myself a bruise.

"Guess I'll catch up on my sleep later, then." Kristoff made a face. "I need to talk to Sam anyway."

He rolled to his knees and grabbed the door's zipper.

Pain crackled down my spine and lodged in my stomach as I abruptly realized that this could be the last time I would see him. He was going back to Sam, back to fight the horde of bloodthirsty newborn vampires.

"Kristoff, wait—" I reached after him, my hand sliding down his arm.

He jerked his arm away before my fingers could find purchase.

"Please, Kristoff? Won't you stay?"

"No."

The word was hard and cold. I knew my face gave away my pain, because he exhaled and half a smile softened his expression.

"Don't worry about me, babe. I'll be fine, just like I always am." He forced a laugh. "'Sides, you think I'm going to let Olaf go in my place—have all the fun and steal all the glory? Right." He snorted.

"Be careful, Kristoff.Please."

He turned back and ran his fingers through my hair. "Don't worry so much, Anna."

He was out of the tent before I could say anything else.

I listened for the sound of his retreating footsteps, but it was perfectly still. No more wind. I could hear morning birdsong far away on the mountain, and nothing else. Kristoff moved in silence now.

I huddled in my coats, and leaned against Elsa's shoulder. We were quiet for a long time.

"How much longer?" I asked.

"Alice told Sam it should be an hour or so," Elsa said, soft and bleak.

"Are you sure you don't want to join them?" I said reluctantly.

"We stay together. No matter what, Anna." She said, her eyes tight.

"No matter what." I agreed. "I know, I'm terrified for them, too."

"They know how to handle themselves," Elsa assured me, purposely making her voice light. "I just hate missing the fun."

"Ha, fun." I snorted.

She put her arm around my shoulder. "Don't worry," she urged, and then kissed my forehead.

As if there was any way to avoid that. "Sure, sure."

"Do you want me to distract you?" She breathed, running her cold fingers along my cheekbone.

I shivered involuntarily; the morning was still frosty.

"Maybe not right now," she answered herself, pulling her hand away.

"There are other ways to distract me."

"What would you like?"

"You could tell me about your ten best nights," I suggested. "I'm curious."

She laughed. "Try to guess."

I shook my head. "There's too many nights I don't know about. A century of them."

"I'll narrow it down for you. All of my best nights have happened since I met you."

"Really?"

"Yes, really—and by quite a wide margin, too."

I thought for a minute. "I can only think of mine," I admitted.

"They might be the same," she encouraged.

"Well, there was the first night. The night you stayed."

"Yes, that's one of mine, too. Of course, you were unconscious for my favorite part."

"That's right," I remembered. "I was talking that night, too."

"Yes,"

she agreed.

My face got hot as I wondered again what I might have said while sleeping in Kristoff's arms. I couldn't remember what I'd dreamed about, or if I'd dreamed at all, so that was no help.

"What did I say last night?" I whispered more quietly than before.

She shrugged instead of answering, and I winced.

"That bad?"

"Nothing too horrible," she sighed.

"Please tell me."

"Mostly you said my name, the same as usual."

"That's not bad," I agreed cautiously.

"Near the end, though, you started rumbling some nonsense about 'Kristoff, my Kristoff.'" I could hear the pain, even in the whisper. "Your Kristoff enjoyedthatquite a lot."

I stretched my neck up, straining to reach my lips to the edge of her jaw. I couldn't see into her eyes. She was staring up at the ceiling of the tent.

"Sorry," I murmured. "That's just the way I differentiate."

"Differentiate?"

"Between the Kristoff I like and the one who annoys the hell out of me," I explained, lightly.

"That makes sense." She sounded slightly mollified. "Tell me another favorite night."

"Flying home from Italy."

She frowned.

"Is that not one of yours?" I wondered.

"No, itisone of mine, actually, but I'm surprised it's on your list. Weren't you under the ludicrous impression that I was just acting from a guilty conscience, and I was going to bolt as soon as the plane doors opened?"

"Yes." I smiled. "But I still managed to save you… for a change."

"You did." She kissed my hair. "You love me more than I deserve."

I laughed. "Next would be the night after Italy," I continued.

"Yes, that's on the list. You were so strong that night."

"Strong?" I raised an eyebrow.

"I already knew you were a strong person, Anna. But seeing you that night… You didn't let me get away with anything, you didn't let me wallow. After everything you'd been through you were still… So wonderful."

"Well, thank you," I blushed. "Okay, tell me one of yours, now. Did I guess your first place?"

"No—that would be two nights ago, when you finally agreed to marry me."

I laughed.

"That doesn't make your list?"

"Yes, it does. It's just funny to me how important it is to you. You already had me forever."

"A hundred years from now, when you've gained enough perspective to really appreciate the answer, I will explain it to you."

"If I live another hundred years, I'll remind you to explain."

"Are you warm enough?" she asked suddenly.

"I'm fine," I assured her. "Why?"

Before she could answer, the silence outside the tent was ripped apart by an earsplitting howl of pain. The sound ricocheted off the bare rock face of the mountain and filled the air so that it seared from every direction.

The howl tore through my mind like a tornado, both strange and familiar. Strange because I'd never heard such a tortured cry before. Familiar because I knew the voice at once—I recognized the sound and understood the meaning as perfectly as if I'd uttered it myself. It made no difference that Kristoff was not human when he cried out. I needed no translation.

Kristoff was close. Kristoff had heard every word we'd said. Kristoff was in agony.

The howl choked off into a peculiar gurgled sob, and then it was quiet again.

I did not hear his silent escape, but I could feel it—I could feel the absence I had wrongly assumed before, the empty space he left behind.

"Because your space heater has reached his limit," Elsa answered quietly. "Truce over," she added, so low I couldn't be sure that was really what she'd said.

"Kristoff was listening," I whispered. It wasn't a question.

"Yes."

"You knew."

"Yes."

I stared at nothing, seeing nothing.

"I never promised to fight fair," she reminded me quietly. "And he deserves to know."

My head fell into my hands.

"Are you angry with me?" she asked.

"Yes," I whispered. "And with myself."

"Anna, please, don't torment yourself—"

"Yes," I snapped. "I should save my energy to torment Kristoff some more. I wouldn't want to leave any part of him unharmed."

"He knew what he was doing."

"Just like you knew whatyouwere doing just now." The words were biting. "God, I did this. It's my fault. I keep hurting Kristoff, over and over again."

She wrapped her arms tightly around me. "Anna…"

"Don't." My voice was cold and harsh as I struggled free of her arms, she let them drop. "I have to go find Kristoff."

"Anna, he's already miles away, and it's cold."

"I don't care. I can't justsithere." I shrugged off Kristoff's parka, shoved my feet into my boots, and crawled stiffly to the door; my legs felt numb. "I have to find him. I have to talk to him." I unzipped the door of the tent and climbed out into the bright, icy morning.

Everything was covered in a thick blanket of snow. The sun shone low in the southeast, glancing off the snow and stabbing at my unadjusted eyes. The air still had a bite to it, but it was dead calm on the mountain.

Olaf Clearwater was curled up on a patch of dry pine needs in the shadow of a thick spruce, his head on his paws. His sand-colored fur was almost invisible against the dead needles, but I could see the bright snow reflect off his open eyes. He was staring at me with a strange expression.

I knew Elsa was following me as I stumbled toward the trees. I couldn't hear her, but the sun reflected of her skin in fiery shards and glittering rainbows that danced ahead of me. She didn't reach out to stop me until I was several paces into the forest shadows.

Her hand caught my left wrist. She ignored it when I tried to yank myself free.

"You can't go after him. Not today. It's almost time. And getting yourself lost wouldn't help anyone, regardless."

I twisted my wrist, pulling uselessly.

"I'm sorry, Anna," she whispered. "I'm sorry I did that."

"Are you?" I turned on her, angrily. "Are you sorry?"

She nodded solemnly.

"I need to talk to Kristoff. I need to apologize for hurting him. He needed to know, but he didn't deserve to find out this way." I felt my voice catch in my throat as tears threatened to burst from my eyes. I took a deep breath. I exhaled slowly. "If you are actually sorry then you go find him and you bring him back, Elsa."

Elsa stared at me for one long second. Then she was gone, and I was alone.

A sob broke from my chest. I was hurting everyone today, wasn't I?

I didn't know why it was hitting me so hard now. It wasn't like I hadn't known this was coming eventually. But Kristoff had never reacted so strongly—lost his bold overconfidence and shown the intensity of his pain. The sound of his agony still cut at me, somewhere deep in my chest. My heartache. Cracks in my heart that I had thought were long since healed began to throb all over again.

I couldn't cry over Kristoff anymore. I couldn't just jerk him around when it was convenient for me and my feelings. It wasn't fair to him. He wanted something I couldn't give him. I had to tell him that. I had to apologize to him for all the pain I caused, for giving him hope for something that could never be, and then I had to say goodbye.

Why was that so hard? So very much more difficult than saying goodbye to my other friends, to Jeremy, to Angela, to Makayla. Why did thathurtso much more? It wasn't fair. I had made my choice. I couldn't have them both, because Kristoff could not be just my friend. It was time to give up wishing for that. How could I be so greedy?

I had to get over this irrational feeling that Kristoff belonged in my life. He couldn't belong with me, could not bemyKristoff, when I had given my heart to someone else.

I walked slowly back to the little clearing, my feet dragging. When I broke into the open space, blinking against the sharp light, I threw one quick glance toward Olaf—he hadn't moved from his bed of pine needles—and then I looked away, avoiding his eyes.

I grabbed the canteen hanging beside the tent door and shook it. It sloshed wetly, so I unscrewed the lid and took a swig to rinse my mouth with the ice water. I poured a little in my hand and splashed my face, trying to clear my head. I started pacing across the bright little space, feeling Olaf's eyes on me the whole time. Because I wouldn't look at him, in my head he became the boy again, rather than the gigantic wolf. So much like a younger Kristoff.

I wanted to ask Olaf to bark or give some other sign if Kristoff was coming back, but I stopped myself. It would only make me more anxious.

Olaf whined at that moment, and got to his feet.

"What is it?" I asked him stupidly.

He ignored me, trotting to the edge of the trees, and pointing his nose toward the west. He began whimpering.

"Is it the others, Olaf?" I demanded. "In the clearing?"

He looked at me and yelped softly once, and then turned his nose alertly back to the west. His ears laid back and he whined again.

A cold trickle of fear began to ooze down my spine. What if the time had run out? What if Kristoff and Elsa got too close? What if Elsa decided to join in the fight?

The icy fear pooled in my stomach. What if Olaf's distress had nothing to do with the clearing, and his yelp had been a denial? What if Kristoff and Elsa were fighting with each other, far away somewhere in the forest? They wouldn't do that, would they?

With a sudden, chilling certainty I realized that they would—if the wrong words were said. I thought of the tense standoff in the tent this morning, and I wondered if I'd underestimated how close it had come to a fight.

What would I do if I lost them both? Did I deserve that for being so selfish?

The ice locked around my heart.

I continued pacing, but I was starting to sweat under all my layers. I threw my jacket into the tent, and then I went back to trudging a path across the center of the tiny break in the trees.

Olaf was pacing now, too. The hackles on the back of his neck standing up stiffly. I looked around, but saw nothing. He growled, a low warning sound, slinking towards the western rim.

"It's just us, Olaf," Kristoff called from a distance.

I tried to explain to myself why my heart started beating so furiously when I heard him. It had to be fear of what I was going to have to do now. I could not allow myself to be relieved that he'd come back. That would be the opposite of helpful.

Elsa walked into view first, her face blank and smooth. When she stepped out from the shadows, the sun shimmered on her skin like it did on the snow. Olaf went to greet her, looking intently into her eyes. Elsa nodded slowly, and worry creased her forehead.

"Yes, that's all we need," she muttered to herself before addressing the big wolf. "I suppose we shouldn't be surprised. But the timing is going to be very close. Please have Sam ask Alice to try to nail the schedule down better."

Olaf dipped his head once, and trotted away. I watched Olaf go, then turned my head back to face Kristoff.

He had his back to me, facing the way he'd come. I waited warily for him to turn around.

"Anna," Elsa murmured, suddenly right beside me. She stared down at me with nothing but concern and repentance showing in her eyes. "There's a bit of a complication," she told me, her voice carefully unworried. "I'm going to take Olaf a little ways away and try to straighten it out. I won't go far, but I won't listen, either. I know you don't want an audience, no matter which way you decide to go."

Only at the very end did the pain break into her voice.

I felt a new wave of guilt over causing her so much hurt. I was too upset to even ask her what the new problem was. I didn't need anything else right now.

"Okay," I whispered.

She kissed me lightly on the lips, and then disappeared into the forest where Seth had gone.

Kristoff was still in the shadow of the trees; I couldn't see his expression clearly.

"I'm in a hurry, Anna," he said in a dull voice. "Why don't you get it over with?"

I swallowed, my throat suddenly so dry I wasn't sure if I could make sound come out.

"Just say the words, and be done with it."

I took a deep breath.

"I'm sorry, Kristoff," I whispered. "I'm sorry I've been so selfish. I wish I had been strong enough to make the choice so much sooner. To make it so that I wasn't hurting you so badly. I won't do it anymore, I promise. I'll stay far away from you. I'll move out of the state. You won't have to look at me ever again."

"Is that your solution?" He said bitterly.

I couldn't make my voice louder than a whisper. "Tell me how to do it right."

"What if I don't want you to go away? What if I'd rather you stayed, selfish or not? Don't I get any say, if you're trying to make things up to me?"

"That won't help anything, Kristoff. It was wrong to stay with you when we wanted such different things. It's not going to get better. I'll just keep hurting you. I don't want to hurt you anymore. I hate it." My voice broke.

He sighed. "Stop. You don't have to say anything else. I understand."

I wanted to tell him how much I would miss him, but I bit my tongue. That would not help anything, either.

He stood quietly for a moment, staring at the ground, and I fought against the urge to go and put my arms around him. To comfort him.

Finally he looked up at me.

"It's not just you, Anna. You're not the only one at fault here."

"What do you mean?"

"I've behaved pretty badly myself. I've made this much harder for you than I needed to. I could have given up with good grace in the beginning. But I hurt you, too."

"This is my fault, Kristoff. I wouldn't make a choice when I needed to and now look what's happened."

"I won't let you take all the blame here, Anna."

"Kristoff—"

"We can't keep doing this to each other. One of us has to walk away." He shook his head, interrupting me. "I can't change the way I feel about you, Anna. I love you. I'minlove with you, and I probably always will be." He sighed again. "But I can be strong enough to walk away now. To give you space, and to stop making this so damn hard on you."

I felt the tears streaming down my face as he spoke. I hated that I was so weak that he had to be the strong one, when he was the one hurting so badly.

"It's not fair, Kristoff, it's not fair." I sobbed, my hands flying to my face.

Suddenly his arms were around me.

"Shh," he pulled me close to him. "It's okay. It's okay." His voice was low and soothing. "I lost. That's just how it goes." He chuckled. "A guy has to bow out gracefully at some point, right? And that's what I'm doing, Anna. I'm bowing out. I'm making this easier on you, because you don't deserve me making your life more difficult by refusing to give up."

"You don't deserve me hurting you like this." I sobbed into his chest.

"It's alright. At least I've got a pretty great fight to look forward to." He shrugged.

"No!" My arms wrapped around his waist and my head shot up. "Kristoff, no, please don't go. Not now!"

"Anna, I'm not going to sit this one out. Besides, what does me staying do? I miss the fight so we can cry for a while? Then you go back to her at the end of it all?"

"I don't want you to get hurt, Kristoff." I shook my head. "I can't have you get hurt anymore."

"Babe, I'm going to get hurt one way or another here." He said quietly. "Less chance of me getting hurt down there than up here."

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," I buried my face in his chest and sobbed.

He stood holding me for a long moment. Then he finally took a deep breath and let it out in a long sigh. "I've got to go, Anna."

"No, Kristoff, please—" My words choked off into a sob, and I buried my face deeper into his chest.

Why was this so hard for me? Why couldn't I let him go? Why couldn't I stop hurting him.

"We had a good time though, didn't we?" He kissed the top of my head. "I love you, Anna."

"I love you, Kristoff," I whispered brokenly.

I could feel him smile. "I know that better than you do."

And then he dropped his arms. He turned, and he walked away.

I felt the stab of loss, the aching and gnawing feeling that this would be the last time I saw him. I might lose him forever, he was going off to a battle and I might never see him again. And in that moment, I saw everything. I saw every moment I'd spent with Kristoff Black. From the first time I saw him on La Push beach, telling me scary stories, to that first time at his house, all the time in his little garage, to the movie theatre where he told me he'd wait for me. I saw him back at his house, telling me we couldn't be friends. Then in my room, trying so hard to keep his promises. More days in his house, on the beach, in his garage.

And through all of that, through every one of those days—every second—was something I had been trying to deny. Something I had bottled up and hidden away. Pretended didn't exist, pretended wasn't there.

I loved Kristoff. I was in love with him. Just like he said. My stubborn, stupid denial had only made things more difficult for everyone. I had never stopped loving him. I had admitted it to myself once before, and made myself forget. But I couldn't deny what was so perfectly obvious, what was right there—alwaysthere. We started as friends, then best friends, and then I had fallen in love with him. Somehow I had convinced myself that it wasn't the same as what I felt for Elsa, that it wasn't as real or as strong, but that was a lie. Because in so many real ways, he was perfect for me. In so many real ways, he was… perfect.

"Kristoff…" My voice was barely a whisper. "Kristoff, wait…"

Before I realized it, I was running after him. My hands reached out for him. I caught his arm, and my hand slid down grabbing his hand. He paused, and slowly turned to face me. Tears in his eyes.

"Kristoff," I whispered his name again. Then I pulled him closer to me, his face confused.

Overwhelmed by my emotions, I threw my arms around his neck. His arms wrapped around my waist again and we stood there. I pulled my head back and looked into his dark eyes. He stared back into mine, his brow furrowed. Our faces only inches apart.

His arms tightened around my waist. And our faces got closer, and closer. I felt my heart racing in my chest. Both of our breathing sped up.

"Anna… Say it. Please."

"Kristoff… Kiss me." I breathed.

And his lips were on mine. Passionate and full of fire. It was an unfamiliar feeling as his lips molded to mine. My hands slid up the back of his head, into his hair, tangling in the shaggy strands. One of his hands moved to my waist, and the other slid under the back of my shirt onto the small of my back. The heat of his touch caused my back to arch my body into his body.

My brain stopped thinking, and my instincts took over. There was no hesitation. Just passion. Just love. In my fervor, I grabbed his hair too tightly, pulling it at the roots.

With a wild gasp, he broke the kiss before bringing his lips back to mine with even more passion, his fingers clutching frantically against the skin at my waist. I moaned into his lips, and he moaned back into mine. My lips were moving with his in strange, confusing ways they'd never moved before—because I didn't have to be careful with Kristoff and he didn't have to be careful with me.

I felt his tongue trace the line of my lower lip, and I moaned again. I pulled him closer to me, deeper into the kiss.

He pulled away for a brief moment, gasping for air. "Anna… Anna…" he panted my name. Then his lips were on my cheek, my jaw, my neck.

He was everywhere. The piercing sunlight turned my eyelids red, and the color fit, matched the heat. The heat was everywhere. I couldn't see or hear or feel anything that wasn't Kristoff. His lips found mine again.

In this moment, it felt as though we were the same person. For one brief, never-ending second, an entirely different path expanded before me. I could see all the things I wouldn't ever have to give up. I could see David and Renée mixed into a strange collage with Billy and Sam and La Push. I could see years passing, and meaning something as they passed, changing me. I could see the enormous red-brown wolf that I loved, always standing as protector if I needed him. I could see me and Kristoff, sitting on our driftwood tree on First Beach, old and gray. Happy and content.

The kiss slowed, and Kristoff reluctantly broke it. I opened my eyes and he was staring at me with wonder and adoration.

"I have to leave," he whispered.

"No."

He smiled gently. "I won't be long," he promised. "But one thing first…"

He bent to kiss me again and this time it was different. His hands were soft on my face and his warm lips were gentle, unexpectedly hesitant. It was brief, and very, very sweet.

His arms curled around me, and he hugged me securely while he whispered in my ear.

"Thatshould have been our first kiss."

"It was."

Against his chest, I sighed. Holding on to this beautiful, sweet moment.

It all felt so warm, safe, and easy…

As easy as breathing.


	25. snap decision

I lay face down across the sleeping bag, waiting for an avalanche or something to bury me. It would be easier that way. Far more so than facing the choice I now had to make.

How had everything become such a mess? How much damage had I caused by not seeing what was right in front of me? No, it was worse than that. How much damage had I caused by not admitting what I already knew? I loved Kristoff. I had realized it before. I had admitted it to myself. Yet, somehow, after Kristoff had stopped talking to me I had convinced myself that love was no longer part of the equation. I had been so desperate to keep Kristoff as a friend that I refused to acknowledge my love for him. Now, I had to face the consequences of my actions. I had to make a choice.

There was no sound to warn me. Out of nowhere, Elsa's cold hand stroked against my hair. I shuddered at her touch.

"Are you all right?" she murmured, her voice anxious.

"No. I want to die."

"That will never happen. I won't allow it."

I groaned and then whispered, "You might change your mind about that."

"Where's Kristoff?"

"He went to the fight," I mumbled into the floor.

Kristoff had left the camp reluctantly—with a solemn "I'll be back"—running with renewed vigor for the clearing, already quivering as he prepared to shift into his other self. By now, the whole pack knew everything. Olaf Clearwater, pacing outside the tent, was an intimate witness.

Elsa was silent for a long moment. "Oh," she finally said.

The tone of her voice worried me that my avalanche wasn't coming fast enough. I peeked up at her and, sure enough, her eyes were unfocused as she listened to something I'd rather die than have her hear. I dropped my face back to the floor.

It stunned me when Elsa chuckled reluctantly.

"And I thought I was the better person," she said with grudging admiration. "Now I feel even more guilty for what I did." Her hand brushed against the part of my cheek that was exposed. "I'm not mad at you, love. Kristoff being willing to bow out was something even I wouldn't have expected. I do wish you hadn't asked him, though."

"Elsa," I whispered to the rough nylon. "I… I… I'm—"

"Shh," she hushed me, her fingers soothing against my cheek. "I can't blame you for what happened. Truly, I can't. It's just that now I don't have an excuse to break his face. I would have really enjoyed that."

I raised my head slowly to meet her patient gaze. Her expression was soft; her eyes were full of understanding rather than the anger or revulsion I expected to see.

"Why aren't you angry with me?" I asked. "Why don't you hate me? Or haven't you heard the whole story yet?"

"I think I got a fairly comprehensive look," she said in a light, easy voice. "Kristoff makes vivid mental pictures. I feel almost as bad for his pack as I do for myself. Poor Olaf was so embarrassed he could hardly stand it. But Sam is making Kristoff focus now."

I closed my eyes and shook my head in agony. The sharp nylon fibers of the tent floor scraped against my skin.

"You're only human," she whispered, stroking my hair again.

"That's the most miserable defense I've ever heard."

"But you are human, Anna. And, as much as I might wish otherwise, so is he… There are holes in your life that I can't fill. I understand that."

"But—but—"

"You love him," she murmured gently.

I wished I could deny it, I wished I could say she was wrong.

"I love you," I said. It was the best I could do.

"Yes, I know that, too. But… when I left you, Anna, I left you bleeding. Kristoff was the one to stitch you back up again. That was bound to leave its mark—on both of you. I'm not sure those kinds of stitches dissolve on their own. I can't blame either of you for something that's my own fault. I may gain forgiveness, but that doesn't let me escape the consequences."

"I knew you'd find some way to blame yourself for this. Please don't."

"What would you like me to say?"

"I don't know. Tell me how angry you are with me. Tell me that you feel betrayed or hurt. That I cheated. Something."

"I'm sorry." She sighed. "I can't do that."

"At least stop trying to make me feel better."

"No," she murmured.

I nodded slowly. "You're right. Keep on being too understanding. That's probably worse."

She was silent for a moment, and I sensed a charge in the atmosphere, a new urgency.

"It's getting close," I stated.

"Yes, a few more minutes now. Just enough time to say one more thing…"

I waited. When she finally spoke again, she was whispering. "I can bow out too, Anna. I'm not going to make you choose between us. Just be happy, and you can have whatever part of me you want, or none at all, if that's better. Don't let any debt you feel you owe me influence your decision."

I pushed off the floor, shoving myself up onto my knees.

"Dammit, stop that!" I shouted at her.

Her eyes widened in surprise. "No—you don't understand. I'm not trying to make you feel better, Anna, I really mean it."

"I know you do," I groaned. "What happened to fighting back? Don't you do this to me, too. Fight!"

"How?" she asked, and her eyes were ancient with their sadness.

I tried to speak, I scrambled forward towards her, all the words catching in my throat. Finally I collapsed into her lap and cried. "I don't know. I just don't know. I shouldn't be angry with you or with Kristoff. I'm not. I'm angry with myself. You're both so willing to let me be happy. But that means choosing one of you and hurting the other. But it's not just one or the other, it's all of us. We all get hurt by this."

"I know, love, I know." Elsa said softly, stroking my hair.

"I don't know how to do this." I sobbed.

"Whatever your choice," Elsa murmured, "We will both accept it."

I cried for what seemed like ages, but was probably only minutes.

Suddenly, Olaf howled stridently outside the tent.

My body stiffened to the sound. I didn't realize my left hand was clenched into a fist, nails biting into my bandaged palm, until Elsa took it and gently smoothed my fingers out.

"It's starting." I choked out the words.

"It's going to be fine, Anna," she promised. "We've got skill, training, and surprise on our side. It will be over very soon. If I didn't truly believe that, I would be down there now—and you'd be here, chained to a tree or something along those lines."

"Alice is so small," I moaned.

She chuckled. "That might be a problem… if it were possible for someone to catch her."

Olaf started to whimper.

"He's just angry that he's stuck here with us. He knows the pack kept him out of the action to protect him. He's salivating to join them."

I scowled in Olaf's general direction.

"The newborns have reached the end of the trail—it worked like a charm, Jasper's a genius—and they've caught the scent of the ones in the meadow, so they're splitting into two groups now, as Alice said," Elsa murmured, her eyes focused on something far away. "Sam's taking us to head off the ambush party." She was so intent on what she was hearing that she used the pack plural.

Suddenly she looked down at me. "Breath, Anna."

I struggled to do what she asked. I could hear Olaf's heavy panting just outside the tent wall, and I tried to keep my lungs on the same even pace, so that I wouldn't hyperventilate.

"The first group is in the clearing. We can hear the fighting."

My teeth locked together.

She laughed once. "We can hear Emmett—he's enjoying himself."

I made myself take another breath with Olaf.

"The second group is getting ready—they aren't paying attention, they haven't heard us yet."

Elsa growled.

"What?" I gasped.

"They're talking about you." Her teeth clenched together. "They're supposed to make sure you don't escape… Nice move, Liam! Mmm, he's quite fast," he murmured in approval. "One of the newborns caught our scent, and Liam took him down before he could even turn. Sam's helping him finish it off. Paul and Kristoff got another one, but the others are on the defensive now. They have no idea what to make of us. Both sides are feinting… No, let Sam lead. Stay out of the way," she muttered. "Separate them—don't let them protect each other's backs."

Olaf whined.

"That's better, drive them toward the clearing," Elsa approved. Her body was shifting unconsciously as she watched, tensing for moves she would have made. Her hands still held mine; I twisted my fingers through hers. At least she wasn't down there.

The sudden absence of sound was the only warning.

The deep rush of Olaf's breathing cut off, and—as I'd paced my breaths with his—I noticed.

I stopped breathing, too—too frightened to even make my lungs work as I realized that Elsa had frozen into a block of ice beside me.

Oh, no. No. No.

Who had been lost? Theirs or ours? Mine, all mine. What was my loss?

So quickly that I wasn't exactly sure how it happened, I was on my feet and the tent was collapsing in ragged shreds around me. Had Elsa ripped our way out? Why?

I blinked, shocked, into the brilliant light. Olaf was all I could see, right beside us, his face only six inches from Elsa's. They stared at each other with absolute concentration for one infinite second. The sun shattered off Elsa's skin and sent sparkling flames dancing across Olaf's fur.

And then Elsa whispered urgently, "Go, Olaf!"

The huge wolf wheeled and disappeared into the forest shadows.

Had two entire seconds passed? It felt like hours. I was terrified to the point of nausea by the knowledge that something horrible had gone awry in the clearing. I opened my mouth to demand that Elsa take me there, and do it now. They needed her, and they needed me. If I had to bleed to save them, I would do it. I would die if I had to, like the third wife. I had no silver dagger in my hand, but I would find a way—

Before I could get the first syllable out, I felt as if I was being flung through the air. But Elsa's hands never let go of me—I was only being moved, so quickly that the sensation was like falling sideways.

I found myself with my back pressed against the sheer cliff face. Elsa stood in front of me, holding a posture that I knew at once.

Relief washed through my mind at the same time that my stomach dropped through the soles of my feet.

I'd misunderstood.

Relief—nothing had gone wrong in the clearing.

Horror—the crisis washere.

Elsa held a defensive position—half-crouched, her arms extended slightly—that I recognized with sickening certainty. The rock at my back could have been the ancient brick walls of the Italian alley where she had stood between me and the black-cloaked Volturi warriors.

Something was coming for us.

"Who?" I whispered.

The words came through her teeth in a snarl that was louder than I expected. Too loud. It meant that it was far too late to hide. We were trapped, and it didn't matter who heard her answer.

"Gerda," she said, spitting the word, making it a curse. "She's not alone. She crossed my scent, following the newborns to watch—she never meant to fight with them. She made a spur-of-the-moment decision to find me, guessing that you would be wherever I was. She was right. You were right. It was always Gerda."

She was close enough that Elsa could hear her thoughts.

Relief again, if it had been the Volturi, we were both dead. But with Gerda, it didn't have to be both.Elsa could survive this. She was a good fighter, as good as Jasper. If Gerda didn't bring too many others, Elsa could fight her way out, back to her family. Elsa was faster than anyone. She could make it.

I was so glad she'd sent Olaf away. Of course, there was no one Olaf could run to for help. Gerda had timed her decision perfectly. But at least Olaf was safe; I couldn't see the huge sandy wolf in my head when I thought his name—just the gangly fifteen-year-old boy.

Elsa's body shifted—only infinitesimally, but it told me where to look. I stared at the black shadows of the forest.

It was like having my nightmares walk forward to greet me.

Two vampires edged slowly into the small opening of our camp, eyes intent, missing nothing. They glistened like diamonds in the sun.

I could barely look at the blond boy—yes, he was just a boy, though he was muscular and tall, maybe my age when he was changed. His eyes—a more vivid red than I had ever seen before—could not hold mine. Though he was the closest to Elsa, the nearest danger, I could not watch him.

Because, a few feet to the side and a few feet back, Gerda was staring at me.

Her black hair was darker than I'd remembered, more like a flame. There was no wind here, but the fire around her face seemed to shimmer slightly, as if it were alive.

Her eyes were black with thirst. She did not smile, as she always had in my nightmares—her lips were pressed into a tight line. There was a striking feline quality to the way she held her coiled body, a lion waiting for an opening to spring. Her restless, wild gaze flickered between Elsa and me, but never rested on her for more than a half-second. She could not keep her eyes away from my face any more than I could keep mine from hers.

Tension rolled off her body, nearly visible in the air. I could feel the desire, the all-consuming passion that held her in its grip. Almost as if I could hear her thoughts, too, I knew what she was thinking.

She was so close to what she wanted—the focus of her whole existence for more than a year now was just so close.

My death.

Her plan was as obvious as it was practical. The big blond boy would attack Elsa. As soon as Elsa was sufficiently distracted, Gerda would finish me.

It would be quick—she had no time for games here—but it would be thorough. Something that it would be impossible to recover from. Something that even vampire venom could not repair.

She'd have to stop my heart. Perhaps a hand shoved through my chest, crushing it. Something along those lines.

My heart beat furiously, loudly, as if to make her target more obvious.

An immense distance away, from far across the black forest, a wolf's howl echoed in the still air. With Olaf gone, there was no way to interpret the sound.

The blond boy looked at Gerda from the corner of his eye, waiting on her command.

He was young in more ways than one. I guessed from his brilliant crimson irises that he couldn't have been a vampire for very long. He would be strong, but inept. Elsa would know how to fight him. Elsa would survive.

Gerda jerked her chin toward Elsa, wordlessly ordering the boy forward.

"Riley," Elsa said in a soft, pleading voice.

The blond boy froze, his red eyes widening.

"She's lying to you, Riley," Elsa told him. "Listen to me. She's lying to you just like she lied to the others who are dying now in the clearing. You know that she'd lied to them, that she had you lie to them, that neither of you were ever going to help them. Is it so hard to believe that she's lied to you, too?"

Confusion swept across Riley's face.

Elsa shifted a few inches to the side, and Riley automatically compensated with an adjustment of his own.

"She doesn't love you, Riley." Elsa's soft voice was compelling, almost hypnotic. "She never has. She loved someone named Hans, and you're no more than a tool to her."

When she said Hans's name, Gerda's lips pulled back in a teeth-baring grimace. Her eyes stayed locked on me.

Riley cast a frantic glance in Gerda's direction.

"Riley?" Elsa said.

Riley automatically refocused on Elsa.

"She knows that I will kill you, Riley. She wants you to die so that she doesn't have to keep up the pretense anymore. Yes—you've seen that, haven't you? You've read the reluctance in her eyes, suspected a false not in her promises. You were right. She's never wanted you. Every kiss, every touch was a lie."

Elsa moved again, moved a few inches toward the boy, a few inches away from me.

Gerda's gaze zeroed in on the gap between us. It would take him less than a second to kill me—he only needed the tiniest margin of opportunity.

Slower this time, Riley repositioned himself.

"You don't have to die," Elsa promised, her eyes holding the boy's. "There are other ways to live than the way she's shown you. It's not all lies and blood, Riley. You can walk away right now. You don't have to die for her lies."You could stay with me and my family. You could have a family.

Elsa slid her feet forward and to the side. There was a foot of space between us now. Riley circled too far, overcompensating this time. Gerda leaned onto the balls of her feet.

"Last chance, Riley," Elsa whispered.

Riley's face was desperate as he looked to Gerda for answers.

"She's the liar, Riley," Gerda said, and my mouth fell open in shock at the sound of her voice. "I told you about their mind tricks. You know I love only you."

Her voice was not the strong, wild, catlike growl I would have put with her face and stance. It was soft, it was gentle—an alluring tenor. It was almost girlish. Childish. It made no sense coming through her bared, glistening teeth.

Riley's jaw tightened, and he squared his shoulders. His eyes emptied—there was no more confusion, no more suspicion. There was no thought at all. He tensed himself to attack.

Gerda's body seemed to be trembling, she was so tightly wound. Her fingers were ready claws, waiting for Elsa to move just one more inch away from me.

The snarl came from none of them.

A mammoth tan shape flew through the center of the opening, throwing Riley to the ground.

"No!" Gerda cried, her tenor voice shrill with disbelief.

A yard and a half in front of me, the huge wolf ripped and tore at the blond vampire beneath him. Something white and hard smacked into the rocks by my feet. I cringed away from it.

Gerda did not spare one glance for the boy she'd just pledged her love to. Her eyes were still on me, filled with a disappointment so ferocious that she looked deranged.

"No," she said again, through her teeth, as Elsa started to move toward her, blocking her path to me.

Riley was on his feet again, looking misshapen and haggard, but he was able to fling a vicious kick into Olaf's shoulder. I heard the bone crunch. Olaf backed off and started to circle, limping. Riley had his arms out, ready, though he seemed to be missing part of one hand…

Only a few yards away from that fight, Elsa and Gerda were dancing.

Not quite circling, because Elsa was not allowing her to position herself closer to me. She sashayed back, moving from side to side, trying to find a hole in her defense. Elsa shadowed her footwork lithely, stalking her with perfect concentration. Elsa began to move just a fraction of a second before Gerda moved, reading her intentions in her thoughts.

Olaf lunged at Riley from the side, and something tore with a hideous, grating screech. Another heavy white chunk flew into the forest with a thud. Riley roared in fury, and Olaf skipped back — amazingly light on his feet for his size — as Riley took a swipe at him with one mangled hand.

Gerda was weaving through the tree trunks at the far end of the little opening now. She was torn, her feet pulling her toward safety while her eyes yearned toward me as if I were a magnet, reeling her in. I could see the burning desire to kill warring with her survival instinct.

Elsa could see that, too.

"Don't go, Gerda" she murmured in that same hypnotic tone as before. "You'll never get another chance like this."

She showed her teeth and hissed at her, but she seemed unable to move farther away from me.

"You can always run later," Elsa purred. "Plenty of time for that. It's what you do, isn't it? It's why Hans kept you around. Useful, if you like to play deadly games. A partner with an uncanny instinct for escaping. He shouldn't have left you — he could have used your skills when we caught up to him in Phoenix."

A snarl ripped from between her lips.

"That's all you ever were to him, though. Silly to waste so much energy avenging someone who had less affection for you than a hunter for his mount. You were never more than a convenience to him. I would know."

Elsa's lips pulled up on one side as she tapped her temple.

With a strangled screech, Gerda darted out of the trees again, feinting to the side. Elsa responded, and the dance began again.

Just then, Riley's fist caught Olaf's flank, and a low yelp coughed out of Olaf's throat. Olaf backed away, his shoulders twitching as if he were trying to shake off the pain.

Please, I wanted to plead with Riley, but I couldn't find the muscles to make my mouth open, to pull the air up from my lungs.Please, he's just a child!

Why hadn't Olaf run away? Why didn't he run now?

Riley was closing the distance between them again, driving Olaf toward the cliff face beside me. Gerda was suddenly interested in her partner's fate. I could see her, from the corner of her eyes, judge the distance between Riley and me. Olaf snapped at Riley, forcing him back again, and Gerda hissed.

Olaf wasn't limping anymore. His circling took him within inches of Elsa; his tail brushed Elsa's back, and Gerda's eyes bulged.

"No, he won't turn on me," Elsa said, answering the question in Gerda's head. She used her distraction to slide closer. "You provided us with a common enemy. You allied us."

She clenched her teeth, trying to keep her focus on Elsa alone.

"Look more closely, Gerda" Elsa murmured, pulling at the threads of her concentration. "Is he really so much like the monster Hans tracked across Siberia?"

Gerda's eyes popped wide open, and then began flickering wildly from Elsa to Olaf to me, around and around. "Not the same?" She snarled in her little girl's tenor. "Impossible!"

"Nothing is impossible," Elsa murmured, voice velvet soft as she moved another inch closer to her. "Except what you want. You'll never touch Anna."

Gerda shook her head, fast and jerky, fighting Elsa's diversions, and tried to duck around her, but Elsa was in place to block her as soon as she'd thought of the plan. Gerda's face contorted in frustration, and then she shifted lower into her crouch, a lion again, and stalked deliberately forward.

Gerda was no inexperienced, instinct-driven newborn. She was lethal. Even I could tell the difference between her and Riley, and I knew that Olaf wouldn't have lasted so long if he'd been fighting this vampire.

Elsa shifted, too, as they closed on each other, and it was lion versus lion. The dance increased in tempo.

It was like Alice and Jasper in the meadow, a blurred spiraling of movement, only this dance was not as perfectly choreographed. Sharp crunches and cracklings reverberated off the cliff face whenever someone slipped in their formation. But they were moving too fast for me to see who was making the mistakes…

Riley was distracted by the violent ballet, his eyes anxious for his partner. Olaf struck, crunching off another small piece of the vampire. Riley bellowed and launched a massive backhanded blow that caught Olaf full in his broad chest. Olaf's huge body soared ten feet and crashed into the rocky wall over my head with a force that seemed to shake the whole peak. I heard the breath whoosh from his lungs, and I ducked out of the way as he rebounded off the stone and collapsed on the ground a few feet in front of me.

A low whimper escaped through Olaf's teeth.

Sharp fragments of gray stone showered down on my head, scratching my exposed skin. A jagged spike of rock rolled down my right arm and I caught it reflexively. My fingers clenched around the long shard as my own survival instincts kicked in; since there was no chance of flight, my body—not caring how ineffectual the gesture was—prepared for a fight.

Adrenaline jolted through my veins. I knew time was running out.

Behind Riley, all I could see was the twisting flame of Gerda's hair and a blur of white. The increasingly frequent metallic snaps and tears, the gasps and shocked hissings, made it clear that the dance was turning deadly for someone.

But which someone?

Riley lurched toward me, his red eyes brilliant with fury. He glared at the limp mountain of sand-colored fur between us, and his hands—mangled, broken hands—curled into talons. His mouth opened, widened, his teeth glistening, as he prepared to rip out Olaf's throat.

A second kick of adrenaline hit like an electric shock, and everything was suddenly very clear.

Both fights were too close. Olaf was about to lose his, and I had no idea if Elsa was winning or losing. They needed help. A distraction. Something to give them an edge.

My hand gripped the stone spike so tightly that I felt it digging into my skin.

Was I strong enough? Was I brave enough? How hard could I shove the rough stone into my body? Would this buy Olaf enough time to get back on his feet? Would he heal fast enough for my sacrifice to do him any good?

I raked the point of the shard up my arm, yanking my thick sweater back to expose the skin, and then pressed the sharp tip to the crease at my elbow. I already had a long scar there from my last birthday. That night, my flowing blood had been enough to catch every vampire's attention, to freeze them all in place for an instant. I prayed it would work that way again. I steeled myself and sucked in one deep breath.

Gerda was distracted by the sound of my gasp. Her eyes, holding still for one tiny portion of a second, met mine. Fury and curiosity mingled strangely in her expression.

I winced as I sliced the stone shard across my arm. I didn't dare look down at the damage, but I felt the warm blood ooze down my forearm. Gerda's eyes widened with surprise, then narrowed with ferocious hunger, she lurched forward toward me—ignoring Elsa.

In one short second, everything broke violently apart. It happened so quickly that it was over before I could follow the sequence of events. I tried to catch up in my head.

Gerda had flown out view and smashed into a tall spruce about halfway up the tree. She dropped back to the earth already crouched to spring.

Simultaniously, Elsa—all but invisible with speed—had twisted backward and caught the distracted Riley by the arm. It had looked like Elsa had planted her foot against Riley's back, and heaved—

The little campsite was filled with Riley's piercing shriek of agony.

At the same time, Olaf leaped to his feet, cutting off most of my view.

But I could still see Gerda. And, though she looked oddly deformed—as if she were unable to straighten up completely—I could see the smile I'd been dreaming off flash across her wild face.

She coiled and sprang.

Something small and white whistled through the air and collided with her mid-flight. The impact sounded like an explosion, and it threw her against another tree—this one snapped in half. She landed on her feet again, crouched and ready, but Elsa was already in place. Relief swelled in my heart when I saw that she stood straight and perfect.

Gerda kicked something aside with a flick of her bare foot—the missle that had crippled her attack. It rolled toward me, and I realized what it was.

My stomach lurched.

The fingers were still twitching; grasping at blades of grass, Riley's arm began to drag itself mindlessly across the ground.

Olaf was circling Riley again, and now Riley was retreating. He backed away from the advancing werewolf, his face rigid with pain. He raised his one arm defensively.

Olaf rushed Riley, and the vampire was clearly off-balance. I saw Olaf sink his teeth into Riley's shoulder and tear, jumping back again.

With an earsplitting metallic screech, Riley lost his other arm.

Olaf shook his head, flinging the arm into the words. The broken hissing noise that came through Olaf's teeth sounded like shrieking.

Riley screamed out a tortured plea. "Gerda!"

Gerda did not even flinch to the sound of her name. Her eyes did not flicker once toward her partner.

Olaf launched himself forward with the force of a wrecking ball. The thrust carried both Olaf and Riley into the trees, where the metallic screeching was matched by Riley's screams. Screams that abruptly cut off, while the sounds of rocks being ripped to shreds continued.

Though she spared Riley no farewell glance, Gerda seemed to realize she was on her own. She began to back away from Elsa, frenzied disappointment blazing in her eyes. She threw me one short, agonized stare of longing, and then she started to retreat faster.

"No,' Elsa crooned, her voice seductive. "Stay just a little longer."

Gerda wheeled and flew toward the refuge of the forest from a bow.

But Elsa was faster—a bullet from a gun.

She caught Gerda's unprotected back at the edge of the trees and, with one last, simple step, the dance was over.

Elsa's mouth brushed one across Gerda's neck, like a caress. The squeeling clamor coming from Olaf's efforts covered up every other noise, so there was no discernable sound to make the image one of violence. Elsa could have been kissing Gerda.

And then the black tangle of hair was no longer connected to the rest of her body. The shivering black waves fell to the ground, and bounced once before rolling toward the trees.

 **so what did you guys think of this chapter**


	26. mirror

**ok guys yes there is a love triangle BUT just like in the real version she's going to choose the vampire. like I said this is basically the same story with some stuff added in. now when breaking Dawn comes which is next that's going to be 90 percent new content. it's still elsanna I promise so don't stop reading yet.**

I forced my eyes—frozen wide open with shock—to move, so that I could not examine too closely the oval object wrapped in tendrils of shivering, fiery hair.

Elsa was in motion again. Swift and coolly businesslike, she dismembered the headless corpse.

I could not go to her—I could not make my feet respond; they were bolted to the stone beneath them. But I scrutinized her every action minutely, looking for any evidence that she had been harmed. My heart slowed to a healthier rhythm when I found nothing. She was lithe and graceful as ever. I couldn't even see a tear in her clothes.

She did not look at me—where I stood frozen to the cliff wall, horrified—while she piled the quivering twitching limbs and then covered them with dry pine needles. She still did not meet my shocked gaze as she darted into the forest after Olaf.

I didn't have time to recover before both she and Olaf were back, Elsa with her arms full of Riley. Olaf was carrying a large chunk—the torso—in his mouth. They added their burden to the pile, and Elsa pulled a silver rectangle from her pocket. She flipped open the butane lighter and held the flame to the dry tinder. It caught at once; long tongues of orange fire licked rapidly across the pyre.

"Get every piece," Elsa said in a low aside to Olaf.

Together, the vampire and the werewolf scoured the campsite, occasionally tossing small lumps of white stone into the blaze. Olaf handled the pieces with his teeth. My brain wasn't working well enough for me to understand why he didn't change back to a form with hands.

Elsa kept her eyes on her work.

And then they were done, and the raging fire was sending a pillar of choking purple toward the sky. The thick smoke curled up slowly, looking more solid than it should; it smelled like burning incense, and the scent was uncomfortable. It was heavy, too strong.

Olaf made that snickering sound again, deep in his chest.

A smile flickered across Elsa's tense face.

Elsa stretched out her arm, her hand curled into a fist. Olaf grinned, revealing the long row of dagger teeth, and bumped his nose against Elsa's hand.

"Nice teamwork," Elsa murmured.

Olaf coughed a laugh.

Then Elsa took a deep breath, and turned slowly to face me.

I did not understand her expression. Her eyes were as wary as if I were another enemy—more than wary, they were afraid. Yet she'd shown no fear at all when she'd faced Gerda and Riley… my mind was stuck, stunned and useless as my body. I stared at her, bewildered.

"Anna, love," she said in her softest tone, walking toward me with exaggerated slowness, her hands held up, palms forward. Dazed as I was, it reminded me oddly of a suspect approaching a police officer, showing that they weren't armed…

Anna, can you drop the rock, please? Carefully. Please don't hurt yourself further."

I'd forgotten all about my crude weapon, though I realized now that I was grasping it so hard that my hand was probably cut up now, too. I glanced down—as briefly as I could—down at my arm; the blood was still trickling down my forearm, leaving a small pool of blood in the snow.

Elsa hesitated a few feet from me, her hands still in the air, her eyes still fearful.

It took me a few long seconds to remember how to move my fingers. Then the rock fell with a dull crunch into the snow, while my hands stayed frozen in the same position.

Elsa relaxed slightly when my hands were empty, but came no closer.

"You don't have to be afraid, Anna," Elsa murmured. "You're safe. I won't hurt you."

The mystifying promise only confused me further. I stared at her, trying to understand.

"It's going to be all right, Anna. I know you're frightened now, but it's over. No one is going to hurt you. I won't touch you. I won't hurt you," she said again.

My eyes blinked furiously, and I found my voice. "Why do you keep saying that?"

I took an unsteady step toward her, and she leaned away from my advance.

"What's wrong?" I whispered. "What do you mean?"

"Are you…" Her golden eyes were suddenly confused as I felt. "Aren't you afraid of me?"

"No?" I blinked a few times. "Why would I be afraid of you?"

I staggered forward another step, and then tripped over something. Elsa caught me, and I buried my face in her chest and started to sob uncontrollably.

"Anna, Anna, I'm so sorry. It's over, it's over."

"I'm fine," I gasped. "I'm okay. I'm just. Freaking out. Give me. A minute."

Her arms tightened around me. "I'm so sorry," she murmured again and again.

I clung to her until I couldn't breathe, and then we were kissing. I don't know who initiated the kisses, but it didn't matter. We were holding each other tightly, fiercly. Kissing and kissing over and over again. My brain finally started working gain.

"Are you okay?" I demanded between kisses. "Did she hurt you at all?"

"I'm absolutely fine," she promised, burying her face in my hair.

"Olaf?"

Elsa chuckled. "More than fine. Very pleased with himself, in fact."

"The others? Alice, Esme? The pack?"

"All fine. It's over there, too. It went just as smoothly as I promised. We got the worst of it here."

I let myself absorb that for a moment, let it sink in and settle in my head.

Everyone was safe. Gerda was never coming after me again. It was over.

We were all going to be fine.

But I couldn't completely take in the good news while I was still so confused.

"Tell me why," I insisted. "Why did you think I would be afraid of you?"

"I'm sorry," she said, apologizing yet again—for what? I had no idea. "So sorry. I didn't want you to see that. Seemelike that. I know I must have terrified you."

I had to think about that for another minute, about the hesitant way she'd approached me, her hands in the air. Like I was going to run if she moved too fast…

"Seriously?" I finally asked. "You… what? Thought you'd scared me off?" I snorted. Snorting was good; a voice couldn't tremble or break during a snort. It sounded impressively offhand.

She put her hand under my chin and tilted my head back to read my face.

"Anna, I just"—she hesitated and then forced the words out—"I just beheaded and dismembered a sentient creature not twenty yards from you. That doesn'tbotheryou?"

She frowned at me.

I shrugged. Shrugging was good, too. Very blasé. "No, not really. I was only afraid that you and Olaf were going to get hurt. I wanted to help, but there's only so much I can do…"

Her suddenly livid expression made my voice fade out.

"Yes," she said, her tone clipped. "Your little stunt with the rock. You know that you nearly gave me a heart attack? Not the easiest thing to do, that."

In a swift motion, she ripped off a piece of her shirt and wrapped it around my arm where I had cut myself.

"I wanted to help… Olaf was hurt…"

"Olaf was only feigning that he was hurt, Anna. He recovered much quicker than he let on." She shook her head, "Your distraction did help, though. But believe me, Olaf could have handled things on his own."

We both looked at Olaf, who was studiously ignoring us, watching the flames. Smugness radiated from every hair in his fur.

"Well, I didn't know that," I said, on the offense now. "And it's not easy being the only helpless person around. I wasn't going to just sit on the sidelines—and I won't be sitting on the sidelines next time, either!"

A dozen emotions flitted across her face before she settled on being amused. "Next time? Did you anticipate another war soon?"

"With my luck? Who knows?"

She rolled her eyes, but I could see that she was flying—the relief was making us both lightheaded. It was over.

Or… Was it?

"Hold on. Didn't you say something before—?" I flinched, remembering whatexactlyit had been before—my conversation with Kristoff. My splintered heart throbbed out a painful, aching beat. It was hard to believe, almost impossible, but the hardest part of this day wasnotbehind me—and then I soldiered on. "About a complication? And Alice, needing to nail down the schedule for Sam. You said it was going to be close. What was going to be close?"

Elsa's eyes flickered back to Olaf, and they exchanged a loaded glance.

"Well?" I asked.

"It's nothing, really," Elsa said quickly. "But we do need to be on our way…"

She started to pull me into place on her back, but I stiffened and drew away.

"Define nothing."

Elsa took my face between her palms. "We only have a minute, so don't panic, all right? I told you that you had no reason to be afraid. Trust me on that, please?"

I nodded, trying to hide the sudden terror—how much more could I handle before I collapsed? "No reason to be afraid. Got it."

She pursed her lips for a second, deciding what to say. And then she glanced abruptly at Olaf, as if the wolf had called her.

"What's he doing?" Elsa asked.

Olaf whined; it was an anxious, uneasy sound. It made the hair on the back of my neck rise.

Everything was dead silent for one endless second.

And then Elsa gasped, "No!" and one of her hands flew out as if to grab something that I couldn't see. "Don't—!"

A spasm rocked through Olaf's body, and a howl, blistering with agony, ripped from his lungs.

Elsa fell to her knees at the exact same moment, gripping the sides of her head with two hands, her face furrowed in pain.

I cried out in bewildered terror, and dropped to my knees beside her. Futilely, I tried to pull her hands from her face; my palms, clammy with sweat, slid off her marble skin.

"Elsa! Elsa!"

Her eyes focused on me; with obvious effort, she pulled her clenched teeth apart.

"It's okay. We're going to be fine. It's—" She broke off, and winced again.

"What's happening?" I cried out while Olaf howled in anguish.

"We're fine. We're going to be okay," Elsa gasped. "Sam—help him—"

And I realized in that instant, when she said Sam's name, that she was not speaking of herself and Olaf. No unseen force was attacking them. This time, the crisis was not here.

She was using the pack plural.

I burned through all my adrenaline. My body had nothing left. I sagged, and Elsa caught me before I could hit the rocks. She sprang to her feet, me in her arms.

"Olaf!" Elsa shouted.

Olaf was crouched, still tensed in agony, looking as if he meant to launch himself into the forest.

"No!" Elsa ordered. "You gostraight home. Now. As fast as you can!"

Olaf whimpered, shaking his great head from side to side.

"Olaf. Trust me."

The huge wolf stared into Elsa's agonized eyes for one long second, and then he straightened up and flew into the trees, disappearing like a ghost.

Elsa cradled me tightly against her chest, and then we were also hurtling through the shadowy forest, taking a different path than the wolf.

"Elsa." I fought to force the words through my constricted throat. "What happened, Elsa? What happened to Sam? Where are we going? What's happening?"

"We have to go back to the clearing," she told me in a low voice. "We knew there was a good probability of this happening. Earlier this morning, Alice saw it and passed it through Sam to Olaf. The Volturi decided it was time to intercede."

The Volturi.

To much. My mind refused to make sense of the words, pretended it couldn't understand.

The trees jolted past us. She was running downhill so fast that it felt as if we were plummeting, falling out of control.

"Don't panic. They aren't coming for us. It's just the normal contingent of the guard that usually cleans up this kind of mess. Nothing momentous, they're merely doing their job. Of course, they seem to have timed their arrival very carefully. Which lead me to believe that no one in Italy would mourn if these newbornshadreduced the size of the Cullen family." The words came through her teeth, hard and bleak. "I'll know for sure what they were thinking when they get to the clearing."

"Is that why we're going back?" I whispered. Could I handle this? Images of flowing back robes crept into my unwilling mind, and I flinched away from them. I was close to a breaking point.

"It's part of the reason. Mostly, it will be safer for us to present a united front at this point. They have no reason to harass us, but… Jane's with them. If she thought we were alone somewhere away from the others, it might tempt her. Like Gerda, Jane will probably guess that I'm with you. Demetri, of course, is with her. He could find me, if Jane asked him to."

I didn't want to think that name. I didn't want to see that blindingly exquisite, childlike face in my head. A strange sound came out of my throat. I felt my breath quicken in panic.

"Shh, Anna, shh. It's all going to be fine. Alice can see that."

Alice could see? But… then where were the wolves? Where was the pack?

"The pack?"

"They had to leave quickly. The Volturi do not honor truces with werewolves."

I could hear my breathing get even faster, more frantic, btu I couldn't control it. I started to gasp.

"I swear they will be fine," Elsa promised me. "The Volturi won't recognize the scent—they won't realize the wolves are here; this isn't a species they are familiar with. The pack will be fine."

I couldn't process her explanation. My concentration was ripped to shreds by my fears and rising panic.We're going to be fine, she had said before… and Olaf, howling in agony… Elsa had avoided my first question, distracted me with the Volturi.

I was very close to the edge—just clinging by my fingertips.

The trees were a racing blur that flowed around her like jade waters.

"What happened?" I whispered again. "Before. When Olaf was howling? When you were hurt?"

Elsa hesitated.

"Elsa! Tell me!"

"It was all over," she whispered. I could barely hear her over the wind her speed created. "The wolves didn't count their half… they thought they had them all. Of course, Alice couldn't see…"

"What happened!?"

"One of the newborns was hiding… Liam found him—he was being stupid, cocky, trying to prove something. He engaged the newborn alone…"

"Liam," I repeated, and my panic started rising higher. "Is he going to be okay?"

"Liam wasn't hurt," Elsa mumbled.

I stared at her for a long second.

Sam—help him—Elsa had gasped. Him who?

"We're almost there," Elsa said, and she stared at a fixed point in the sky.

Automatically, my eyes followed hers. There was a dark purple cloud hanging low over the trees. A cloud. But it was so abnormally sunny… No, not a cloud—I recognized the thick column of smoke, just like the one at our campsite.

"Elsa," I said, my voice nearly inaudible. "Elsa, someone got hurt."

I'd heard Olaf's agony, seen the torture in Elsa's face.

"Yes," she whispered.

"Who?" I asked, though, of course, I already knew the answer.

Of course I did. Of course.

The trees were slowing around us as we came to our destination.

It took her a long moment to answer me.

"Kristoff," she said.

I was able to nod once.

"Kristoff" I repeated.

And then I slipped off the edge I was clinging to inside my head.

Everything went black.

I was first aware of the cool hands touching me. More than one pair of hands. Arms holding me, a palm curved to fit my cheek, fingers stroking my forehead, and more fingers pressed lightly into my wrist.

Then I was aware of the voices. They were just a humming at first, and then they grew in volume and clarity like someone was turning up a radio.

"Carlisle—it's been five minutes." Elsa's voice, anxious.

"She'll come around when she's ready, Elsa." Carlisle's voice, always calm and sure. "She's had too much to deal with today. Let her mind protect itself."

But my mind was not protected. It was trapped in the knowledge that had not left me, even in unconsciousness—the pain that was part of the blackness.

I felt totally disconnected from my body. Like I was caged in some small corner of my head, no longer at the controls. But I couldn't do anything about it. I couldn't think. The agony was too strong for that. There was no escape from it.

Kristoff.

Kristoff.

No, no, no, no, no…

"Alice, how long do we have?" Elsa demanded, her voice still tense; Carlisle's soothing words had not helped.

From farther away, Alice's voice. She sounded distracted. "Another five moments. And Anna will open her eyes in thirty-seven seconds. I wouldn't doubt that she can hear us now."

"Anna, honey?" This was Esme's soft, comforting voice. "Can you hear me? You're safe now, dear."

Yes,Iwas safe. But was Kristoff?

Then cool lips were at my ear, and Elsa was speaking the words that allowed me to escape from the torture that had me caged inside my own head.

"He's going to live, Anba. Kristoff Black is healing as I speak. He'll be fine."

As the pain and dread eased, I found my way back to my body. My eyelids fluttered.

"Oh, Anna," Elsa sighed in relief, and her lips touched mine.

"Elsa," I whispered.

"Yes, I'm here."

I got my lids to open, and I stared into warm gold.

"Kristoff is okay?" I asked.

"Yes," she promised.

I watched his eyes carefully for some sign that she was placating me, but they were perfectly clear.

"I examined him myself," Carlisle said then; I turned my head to find his face, only a few feet away. Carlisle's expression was serious and reassuring at the same time. It was impossible to doubt him. "His life is not in any danger. He was healing at an incredible rate, though his injuries were extensive enough that it will still be a few days before he is back to normal, even if the rate of repair holds steady. As soon as we're done here, I will do what I can to help him. Sam is trying to get him to phase back to his human form. That will make treating him easier." Carlisle smiled slightly. "I've never been to veterinarian school."

"What happened to him?" I whispered. "How bad are his injuries?"

Carlisle's face was serious again. "Another wolf was in trouble —"

"Liam," I breathed.

"Yes. Kristoff knocked Liam out of the way, but he didn't have time to defend himself. The newborn got his arms around him. Most of the bones on the right half of his body were shattered."

I flinched.

"Sam and Paul got there in time. He was already improving when they took him back to La Push." "He'll be back to normal?" I asked.

"Yes, Anna. He won't have any permanent damage."

I took a deep breath.

"Three minutes," Alice said quietly.

I struggled, trying to get vertical. Elsa realized what I was doing and helped me to my feet.

I stared at the scene in front of me.

The Cullens stood in a loose semicircle around the bonfire. There were hardly any flames visible, just the thick, purple-black smoke, hovering like a disease against the bright grass. Jasper stood closest to the solid-seeming haze, in its shadow so that his skin did not glitter brilliantly in the sun the way the others did. He had his back to me, his shoulders tense, his arms slightly extended. There was something there, in his shadow. Something he crouched over with wary intensity…

I was too numb to feel more than a mild shock when I realized what it was.

There were eight vampires in the clearing.

The girl was curled into a small ball beside the flames, her arms wrapped around her legs. She was very young. Younger than me—she looked maybe fifteen, dark-haired and slight. Her eyes were focused on me, and the irises were a shocking brilliant red. Much brighter than Riley's, almost glowing. They wheeled wildly, out of control.

Elsa saw my bewildered expression.

"She surrendered," she told me quietly. "That's one I've never seen before. Only Carlisle would think of offering. Jasper doesn't approve."

I couldn't tear my gaze away from the scene besides the fire. Jasper was rubbing absently at his left forearm.

"Is Jasper all right?" I whispered.

"He's fine. The venom stings."

"He was bitten?" I asked, horrified.

"He was trying to be everywhere at once. Trying to make sure Alice had nothing to do, actually." Elsa shook her head. "Alice doesn't need anyone's help."

Alice grimaced toward her true love. "Overprotective fool."

Then Alice's eyes slowly drifted back to me. She looked at me with a concerned, but confused expression on her face.

The young female suddenly threw her head back like an animal and wailed shrilly.

Jasper growled at her and she cringed back, but her fingers dug into the ground like claws and her head whipped back and forth in anguish. Jasper took a step toward her, slipping deeper into his crouch. Elsa moved with overdone casualness, turning our bodies so that she was between the girl and me. I peeked around her arm to watch around her arm to watch the thrashing girl and Jasper.

Carlisle was at Jasper's side in an instant. He put a restraining hand on his most recent son's arm.

"Have you changed your mind, young one?" Carlisle asked, calm as ever. "We don't want to destroy you, but we will if you can't control yourself."

"How can you stand it?" The girl groaned in a high, clear voice. "Iwanther." Her bright crimson irises focused on Elsa, through her, beyond her to me, and her nails ripped through the hard soil again.

"You must stand it," Carlisle told her gravely. "You must exercise control. It is possible, and it is the only thing that will save you now."

The girl clutched her dirt-encrusted hands around her head, yowling quietly.

"Shouldn't we move away from her?" I whispered, tugging on Elsa's arm. The girl's lips pulled back over teeth when she heard my voice, her expression one of torment.

"We have to stay here," Elsa murmured. "Theyare coming to the north end of the clearing now."

My heart burst into a sprint as I scanned the clearing, but I couldn't see anything past the thick pall of smoke.

After a second of fruitless searching, my gaze crept back to the young female vampire. She was still watching me, her eyes half-mad.

I met the girl's stare for a long moment. Chin-length dark hair framed her face, which was alabaster pale. It was hard to tell if her features were beautiful, twisted as they were by rage and thirst. The feral red eyes were dominant—hard to look away from. She glared at me viciously, shuddering and writhing every few seconds.

I stared at her, mesmerized, wondering if I were looking into a mirror of my possible future.

Then Carlisle and Jasper began to back toward the rest of us. Emmett, Royal, and Esme all converged hastily around where Elsa stood with Alice and me. A united front, as Elsa had said, with me at the heart, in the safest place.

I tore my attention away from the wild girl to search for the approaching monsters.

There was still nothing to see. I glanced at Elsa, and her eyes were locked straight ahead. I tried to follow her gaze, but there was only the smoke—dense, oily smoke twisting low to the ground, rising lazily, undulating against the grass.

It billowed forward, darker in the middle.

"Hmm," a dead voice murmured from the mist. I recognized the apathy at once.

"Welcome, Jane." Elsa's tone was coolly courteous.

The dark shapes came closer, separating themselves from the haze, solidifying. I knew it would be Jane in the front—the darkest cloak, almost black, and the smallest figure by more than two feet. I could just barely make out Jane's angelic features in the shade of the cowl.

The four gray-shrouded figures hulking behind her were also somewhat familiar. I was sure I recognized the biggest one, and while I stared, trying to confirm my suspicion, Felix looked up. He let his hood fall back slightly so that I could see him wink at me and smile. Elsa was very still at my side, tightly in control.

Jane's gaze moved slowly across the luminous faces of the Cullens and then touched on the newborn girl beside the fire; the newborn had her head in her hands again.

"I don't understand." Jane's voice was toneless, but not quite as uninterested as before.

"She has surrendered," Elsa explained, answering the confusion in her mind.

Jane's dark eyes flashed to his face. "Surrendered?"

Felix and another shadow exchanged a quick glance.

Elsa shrugged. "Carlisle gave her the option."

"There are no options for those who break the rules," Jane said flatly.

Carlisle spoke then, his voice mild. "That's in your hands. As long as she was willing to halt her attack on us, I saw no need to destroy her. She was never taught."

"That is irrelevant," Jane insisted.

"As you wish."

Jane stared at Carlisle in consternation. She shook her head infinitesimally, and then composed her features.

"Aro hoped that we would get far enough west to see you, Carlisle. He sends his regards."

Carlisle nodded. "I would appreciate it if you would convey mind to him."

"Of course." Jane smiled. Her face was almost too lovely when it was animated. She looked back toward the smoke. "It appears you've done our work for us today… for the most part." Her eyes flickered to the hostage. "Just out of professional curiosity, how many were there? They left quite a wake of destruction in Seattle."

"Eighteen, including this one," Carlisle answered.

Jane's eyes widened, and she looked at the fire again, seeming to reassess the size of it. Felix and the other shadows exchanged a longer glance.

"Eighteen?" she repeated, her voice sounding unsure for the first time.

"All brand-new," Carlisle said dismissively. "They were unskilled."

"All?" Her voice turned sharp. "Then who was their creator?"

"Her name was Gerda," Elsa answered, no emotion in her voice.

"Was?" Jane asked.

Elsa inclined her head toward the Eastern forest. Jane's eyes snapped up and focused on something far in the distance. The other pillar of smoke? I didn't look away to check.

Jane stared to the east for a long moment, and then examined the closer bonfire again.

"This Gerda—she was in addition to the eighteen here?"

"Yes. She had only one other with her. He was not as young as this one here, but no older than a year."

"Twenty," Jane breathed. "Who dealt with the creator?"

"I did," Elsa told her.

Jane's eyes narrowed, and she turned to the girl beside the fire.

"You there," she said, her dead voice harsher than before. "Your name."

The newborn short a baleful glare at Jane, her lips pressed tightly together.

Jane smiled back angelically.

The newborn girl's answering scream was ear-piercing; her body arched stiffly into a distorted, unnatural position. I looked away, fighting the urge to cover my ears. I gritted my teeth, hoping to control my stomach. The screaming intensified. I tried to concentrate on Elsa's face, smooth and unemotional, but that made me remember when it had been Elsa under Jane's torturing gaze, and I felt sicker. I looked at Alice instead, and Esme next to her. Their faces were as empty as hers.

Finally, it was quiet.

"Your name," Jane said again, her voice inflectionless.

"Bree," the girl gasped.

Jane smiled, and the girl shrieked again. I held my breath until the sound of her agony stopped.

"She'll tell you anything you want to know," Elsa said through her teeth. "You don't have to do that."

Jane looked up, sudden humor in her usually dead eyes. "Oh, I know," she said to Elsa, grinning at her before she turned back to the young vampire, Bree.

"Bree," Jane said, her voice cold again. "Is hee story true? Were there twenty of you?"

The girl lay panting, the side of her face pressed against the earth. She spoke quickly. "Nineteen or twenty, maybe more, I don't know!" She cringed, terrified that her ignorance might bring on another round of torture. "Sara and the one whose name I don't know got in a fight on the way…"

"And this Gerda—did she create you?"

"I don't know," she said, flinching again. "Riley never said her name. I didn't see that night… it was so dark, and it hurt…" Bree shuddered. "Riley didn't was us to be able to think ofher. He said that our thoughts weren't safe…"

Jane's eyes flickered to Elsa, and then back to the girl.

Gerda had planned this well. If she hadn't followed Elsa, there would have been no way to know for certain that she was involved.

"Tell me about Riley," Jane said. "Why did he bring you here?"

"Riley told us that we had to destroy the strange yellow-eyes here," Bree babbled quickly and willingly. "He said it would be easy. He said that the city was theirs, and they were coming to get us. He said once they were gone, all the blood would be ours. Riley gave us her scent." Bree lifted one hand and stabbed a finger in my direction. "he said we would know that we had the right coven, because the human would be with them. Riley said whoever got her first could have her."

I heard Elsa's jaw flex beside me.

"It looks like Riley was wrong about the easy part," Jane noted.

Bree nodded, seeming relieved that the conversation had taken this non-painful course. She sat up carefully. "I don't know what happened. We split up, but the others never came. And Riley left us, and he didn't come to help like he promised. And then it was so confusing, and everybody was in pieces." She shuddered again. "I was afraid. I wanted to run away. That one"—she looked at Carlisle—"said they wouldn't hurt me if I stopped fighting."

"Ah, but that wasn't his gift to offer, young one," Jane murmured, her voice oddly gentle now. "Broken rules demand consequences."

Bree stared at her, not comprehending.

Jane looked at Carlisle. "Are you sure you got all of them? The other half that split off?"

Carlisle's face was very smooth as he nodded. "We split up, too."

Jane half-smiled. "I can't deny that I'm impressed." The big shadows behind her murmured in agreement. "I've never seen a coven escape an attack of this magnitude intact. Do you know what was behind it? It seems like extreme behavior, considering the way you live here. And why was the girl the key?" Her eyes rested unwillingly on me for one short second.

I shivered.

"Gerda held a grudge against Anna," Elsa told her, her voice impassive.

Jane laughed—the sound was golden, the bubbling laugh of a happy child. "This one seems to bring out bizarrely strong reactions in our kind," she observed, smiling directly at me, her face beatific.

Elsa stiffened. I looked at her in time to see her face turning away, back to Jane.

"Would you please not do that?" she asked in a tight voice.

Jane laughed again lightly. "Just checking. No harm done, apparently."

I shivered, deeply grateful that the strange glitch in my system—which had protected me from Jane the last time we'd met—was still in effect. Elsa's arm tightened around me.

"Well, it appears that there's not much left for us to do. Odd," Jane said, apathy creeping back into her voice. "We're not used to being rendered unnecessary. It's too bad we missed the fight. It sounds like it would have been entertaining to watch."

"Yes," Elsa answered her quickly, her voice sharp. "And you were so close. It's a shame you didn't arrive just a half hour earlier. Perhaps then you could have fulfilled your purpose here."

Jane met Elsa's glare with unwavering eyes. "Yes. Quite a pity how things turned out, isn't it?"

Elsa nodded once to look at the newborn Bree again, her face completely bored. "Felix?" she drawled.

"Wait," Elsa interjected.

Jane raised one eyebrow, but Elsa was staring at Carlisle while she spoke in an urgent voice. "We could explain the rules to the young one. She doesn't seem unwilling to learn. She didn't know what she was doing."

"Of course," Carlisle answered. "We would certainly be prepared to take responsibility for Bree."

Jane's expression was torn between amusement and disbelief.

"We don't make exceptions," she said. "And we don't give second chances. It's bad for our reputation. Which reminds me…" Suddenly, her eyes were on me again, and her cherubic face dimpled. "Caius will besointerested to hear that you're still human, Anna. Perhaps he'll decide to visit."

"The date is set," I answered, surprising myself with my confidence.

"Perhaps we'll come visit you in a few months." Alice said, backing up my lie.

Jane's smile faded, and she shrugged indifferently, never looking at Alice. She turned to face Carlisle. "It was nice to meet you, Carlisle—I'd thought Aro was exaggerating. Well, until we meet again…"

Carlisle nodded, his expression pained.

"Take care of that, Felix," Jane said, nodding toward Bree, her voice dripping boredom. "I want to go home."

"Don't watch," Elsa whispered in my ear.

I was only too eager to follow her instruction. I'd seen more than enough for one day—more than enough for one lifetime. I squeezed my eyes tightly together and turned my face into Elsa's chest.

But I could still hear.

There was a deep rumbling growl, and then a high-pitched keen that was horribly familiar. That sound cut off quickly, and then the only sound was a sickening crunching and snapping.

Elsa's hand rubbed anxiously against my shoulders.

"Come," Jane said, and I looked up in time to see the backs of the tall gray cloaks drifting away toward the curling smoke. The incense smell was strong again—fresh.

The gray cloaks disappeared into the thick mist.


	27. clouds

The counter in Alice's bathroom was covered with dozens of various hair products and purfumes. Since no one in this house appeared to use either, I could only assume she'd bought most of these things with me in mind. I read the labels numbly, struck by the waste.

I was careful never to look in the long mirror.

Alice combed through my hair with a slow, rhythmic motion.

"That's enough, Alice," I said tonelessly. "I want to go back to La Push."

How many hours had I waited for David to leave Billy's house so that I could see Kristoff? Each minute, not knowing if Kristoff was still breathing or not, had seemed like ten lifetimes. And then, when at last I'd been allowed to go, to see for myself that Kristoff was alive, the time had gone quickly. I felt like I'd barely caught my breath before Alice was calling Elsa, insisting that I keep up this ridiculous sleepover façade. It seemed so insignificant…

"Kristoff's still unconscious," Alice answered. "Carlisle or Elsa will call when he's awake. Anyway, you need to go see David. He was there at Billy's house, he saw that Carlisle and Elsa are back in from their trip, and he's bound to be suspicious when you get home."

I already had my story memorized and corroborated. "I don't care. I want to be there when Kristoff wakes up."

"You need to think of David now. You've had a long day—sorry, I know that doesn't begin to cover it—but that doesn't mean you can shirk your responsibilities." Her voice was serious, almost chiding. "It's more important now than ever that David stayed safely in the dark. Play your role first, Anna, and then you can do what you want second. Part of being a Cullen is being meticulously responsible."

Of course she was right. And if not for this same reason—a reason that was more powerful than all my fear and pain and guilt—Carlisle would never have been able to talk me into leaving Kristoff's side, unconscious or not.

"Go home," Alice ordered. "Talk to David. Flesh out your alibi. Keep him safe."

I stood, and the blood flowed down to my feet, stinging like the pricks of a thousand needles. I'd been sitting still for a long time.

"That outfit looks adorable on you," Alice cooed.

"Huh? Oh. Er—thanks again for the clothes," I mumbled, distracted.

"You need the evidence," Alice said, her eyes innocent and wide. "What's a shopping trip without a new outfit? It's very flattering, if I do say so myself."

I blinked, unable to remember what she'd dressed me in. I couldn't keep my thoughts from skittering away every few seconds, insects running from the light…

Kristoff is fine, Anna," Alice said, easily interpreting my preoccupation. "There's no hurry. If you realized how much extra morphine Carlisle had to give him—what with his temperature burning it off so quickly—you would know that he's going to be out for a while."

At least he wasn't in any pain. Not yet.

"Is there anything you want to talk about before you leave?" Alice asked sympathetically. "You must be more than a little traumatized."

I thought I knew what she was really curious about. But I had other questions.

"Would I be like that?" I asked her, my voice subdued. "Like that girl Bree in the meadow?"

There were many things I needed to think of, but I couldn't seem to get her out of my head, the newborn whose life was now—abruptly—over. Her face, twisted with desire for my blood, lingered behind my eyelids.

Alice stroked my arm. "Everyone is different. But something like that, yes."

I was very still, trying to imagine.

"It passes," she promised.

"How soon?"

She shrugged. "A few years, maybe less. It might be different for you. I've never seen anyone go through this who's chosen it beforehand. It would be interesting to see how that affects you."

"Interesting," I repeated.

"We'd keep you out of trouble."

"I know that. I trust you." My voice was monotone, dead.

Alice's forehead puckered. "If you're worried about Carlisle and Elsa, I'm sure they'll be fine. I believe Sam is beginning to trust us… well, to trust Carlisle, at least. It's a good thing, too. I imagine the atmosphere got a little tense when Carlisle had to re-break the fractures—"

"Please, Alice."

"Sorry."

I took a deep breath to steady myself. Kristoff had begun healing too quickly, and some of his bones had set wrong. He'd been out cold for the process, but it was still hard to think about.

"Alice, can I ask you a question? About the future?"

She was suddenly wary. "You know I don't see everything."

"It's not that, exactly. But youdosee my future, sometimes. Why is that, do you think, when nothing else works on me? Not what Jane can do, or Elsa, or Aro…" My sentence trailed off as my mind continued wondering.

Alice watched me for a moment, then answered. "Jasper, too, Anna—his talent works on your body just as well as it does on anyone else's. That's the difference, do you see it? Jasper's abilities affect the body physically. He really does calm your system down, or excite it. It's not an illusion. And I see visions of outcomes, not the reasons and thoughts behind the decisions that create them. It's outside the mind, not an illusion, either; reality, or at least one version of it. But Jane and Elsa and Aro and Demetri — they workinsidethe mind. Jane only creates an illusion of pain. She doesn't really hurt your body, you only think you feel it. You see, Anna? You are safe inside your mind. No one can reach you there. It's no wonder that Aro was so curious about your future abilities."

She watched my face to see if I was following her logic. In truth, her words had all started to run together, the syllables and sounds losing their meaning. I couldn't concentrate on them. Still, I nodded. Trying to look like I got it.

She wasn't fooled. She stroked my cheek and murmured, "She's going to be okay, Anna. I don't need a vision to know that. Are you ready to go?"

"One more thing. Can I ask you another question about the future? I don't want specifics, just an overview."

"I'll do my best," she said, doubtful again.

"Can you still see my future?"

She didn't answer right away. This was the question she'd been wary of, I could tell. The looks she had given me back in the clearing after the battle made sense to me now

"I see lots of futures for you, Anna."

I nodded slowly.

She examined my face, her eyes unfathomable. "Don't you know your own mind, Anna?"

"I don't anymore."

"I'm only as sure as you are, Anna. You know that. If you were to change your mind, what I see would change… or disappear, in your case."

I felt my stomach drop as Alice hit the nail on the head. I felt my face get hot, and tears start forming in the corners of my eyes.

Alice rushed forward and put her arms around me. "I'm sorry, Anna. I can't reallyempathize. My first memory is of seeing Jasper's face in my future; I always knew that he would be where my life was headed. But I cansympathize. I'm sorry you have to choose between two good things."

I sniffed back the tears, "Don't feel sorry for me." I didn't want sympathy. I didn't know what I wanted. Which was the real crux of the problem. I had to make a choice, and I had to break a good heart in the process.

"Anna," Alice began gently, "I want you to know that no matter what, or who, you choose, I'll always love you. I know your decision isn't easy. I know how unhappy this is making you… I wish I could help you." She hugged me tightly.

"Thank you, Alice." I hugged her back. "I don't know what I'm going to do. But right now, I have to go deal with David."

I drove my truck back home, where David was waiting just as suspiciously as Alice had expected.

"Hey, Anna. How was your shopping trip?" he greeted me when I walked into the kitchen. He had his arms folded over his chest, his eyes on my face.

"Long," I said dully. "We just got back."

David assessed my mood. "I guess you already heard about Kristoff, then?"

"Yes. The rest of the Cullens beat us home. Esme told us where Carlisle and Elsa were."

"Are you okay?"

"I'm really worried about Kristoff. As soon as I make dinner, I'm going down to La Push."

"I told you those motorcycles were dangerous. I hope this makes you realize that I wasn't kidding around."

I nodded as I started pulling things out of the fridge. David settled himself in at the table. He seemed to be in a more talkative mood than usual.

"I don't think you need to worry about Kristoff too much. Anyone who can cuss with that kind of energy is going to recover."

"Kristoff was awake when you saw him?" I asked, spinning to look at him.

"Oh, yeah, he was awake. You should have heard him—actually, it's better you didn't. I don't think there was anyone in La Push whocouldn'thear him. I don't know where he picked up that vocabulary, but I hope he hasn't been using that kind of language around you."

"He had a pretty good excuse today. How did he look?"

"Messed up. His friends carried him in. Good thing they're big boys, 'cause that kid's an armful. Carlisle said his right leg is broken, and his right arm. Pretty much the whole right side of his body got crushed when he wrecked that damn bike." David shook his head. "If I ever hear of you riding again, Anna—"

"No problem there, Dad. You won't. Do you really think Kristoff's okay?"

"Sure, Anna, don't worry. He was himself enough to tease me."

"Tease you?" I echoed in surprise.

"Yeah—in between the swearing, he said, 'Bet you're glad she loves Cullen instead of me today, huh, David?'"

I turned back to the fridge so that he couldn't see my face.

"And I couldn't argue. Elsa's more mature than Kristoff when it comes to your safety, I'll give her that much."

"Kristoff's plenty mature," I muttered defensively. "I'm sure this wasn't his fault."

"Weird day today," David mused after a minute. "You know, I don't put much stock in that superstitious crap, but it was odd… It was like Billy knew something bad was going to happen to Kristoff. He was nervous as a turkey on Thanksgiving all morning. I don't think he heard anything I said to him.

"And then, weirder than that—remember back in February and March when we had all that trouble with the wolves?"

I bent down to get a frying pan out of the cupboard, and hid there an extra second or two.

"Yeah," I mumbled.

"I hope we're not going to have a problem with that again. This morning, we were out in the boat, and Billy wasn't paying any attention to me or the fish, when all of a sudden, you could hear wolves yowling in the woods. More than one, and, boy, was it loud. Sounded like they were right there in the village. Weirdest part was, Billy turned the boat around and headed straight back to the harbor like they were calling to him personally. Didn't even hear me ask what he was doing.

"The noise stopped before we got the boat docked. But all of a sudden Billy was in the biggest hurry not to miss the game, though we had hours still. He was mumbling some nonsense about an earlier showing… of a live game? I tell you, Anna, it was odd.

"Well, he found some game he said he wanted to watch, but then he just ignored it. He was on the phone the whole time, calling Sue, and Emily, and your friend Quil's grandpa. Couldn't quite make out what he was looking for—he just chatted real casual with them.

"Then the howling started again right outside the house. I've never heard anything like it—I had goose bumps on my arms. I asked Billy—had to shout over the noise—if he'd been setting traps in his yard. It sounded like the animal was in serious pain."

I winced, but David was so caught up in his story that he didn't notice.

"'Course I forgot all about that till just this minute, 'cause that's when Kristoff made it home. One minute it was that wolf yowling, and then you couldn't hear it anymore — Kristoff's cussing drowned it right out. Got a set of lungs on him, that boy does."

David paused for a minute, his face thoughtful. "Funny that some good should come out of this mess. I didn't think they were ever going to get over that fool prejudice they have against the Cullens down there. But somebody called Carlisle, and Billy was real grateful when he showed up. I thought we should get Kristoff up to the hospital, but Billy wanted to keep him home, and Carlisle agreed. I guess Carlisle knows what's best. Generous of him to sign up for such a long stretch of house calls."

"And…" he paused, as if unwilling to say something. He sighed, and then continued. "And Elsa was really… nice. She seemed as worried about Kristoff as you are—like that was her brother lying there. The look in her eyes…" David shook his head. "She's a decent girl, Anna. I'll try to remember that. No promises, though." He grinned at me.

"I won't hold you to it," I mumbled.

David stretched his legs and groaned. "It's nice to be home. You wouldn't believe how crowded Billy's little place gets. Seven of Kristoff's friends all squished themselves into that little front room—I could hardly breathe. Have you ever noticed how big those Quileute kids all are?"

"Yeah, I have."

David stared at me, his eyes abruptly more focused. "Really, Anna, Carlisle said Kristoff will be up and around in no time. Said it looked a lot worse than it was. He's going to be fine."

I just nodded.

Kristoff had looked so… strangely fragile when I'd hurried down to see him as soon as David had left. He'd had braces everywhere—Carlisle said there was no point in plaster, as fast as he was healing. His face had been pale and drawn, deeply unconscious though he was at the time. Breakable. Huge as he was, he'd looked very breakable. Maybe that had just been my imagination, coupled with the knowledge that I could possibly break him further.

If only I could be struck by lightning and be split in two. If there were two of me, maybe I could make everyone happy. No one would be heartbroken. No one would lose anything.

I put David's dinner on the table next to his elbow and headed for the door.

"Er, Anna? Could you wait just a second?"

"Did I forget something?" I asked, eyeing his plate.

"No, no. I just… want to ask a favor." David frowned and looked at the floor. "Have a seat—this won't take long."

I sat across from him, a little confused. I tried to focus. "What do you need, Dad?"

"Here's the gist of it, Anna." David flushed. "Maybe I'm just feeling… superstitious after hanging out with Billy while he was being so strange all day. But I have this… hunch. I feel like… I'm going to lose you soon."

"Don't be silly, Dad," I mumbled guiltily. "You want me to go to school, don't you?"

"Just promise me one thing."

I was hesitant. "Okay…"

"Will you tell me before you do anything major? Before you run off with her or something?"

"Dad..."

"I'm serious. I won't kick up a fuss. Just give me some advance notice. Give me a chance to hug you goodbye."

I felt the knots in my stomach as I looked at my father. "I promise, Dad."

"Thanks, Anna," he said. "I love you, kiddo."

"I love you, too, Dad." I turned to leave but I stopped. I ran back to David and hugged him. He seemed surprised for a moment, but then hugged me back tightly.

The whole way down to La Push my stomach was in knots. My mind grappling with itself and with my heart. I tried to lay out both decisions, both courses in front of me. Tried to quantify and list everything that either choice would mean; the short term, the long term. Somehow the minute my brain began to lean towards one over the other, my heart would pull me back the other way and I'd have to start all over again.

Carlisle's black Mercedes was not in front of Billy's house. This was good. I needed to talk to Kristoff alone. Having Elsa there—any of the Cullens—would only make my decision so much harder.

I tapped quietly on the door.

"Come in, Anna," Billy said. The roar of my truck was easy to recognize.

I let myself in.

"Hey, Billy. Is he awake?" I asked.

"He woke up about a half hour ago, just before the doctor left. Go on in. I think he's been waiting for you."

I flinched, and then took a deep breath. "Thanks."

I hesitated at the door to Kristoff's room, not sure whether to knock. I decided to peek first, hoping—coward that I was—that maybe he'd gone back to sleep. I felt like I could use just a few more minutes.

I opened the door a crack and leaned hesitantly in.

Kristoff was waiting for me, his face calm and smooth. The haggard, gaunt look was gone, but only a careful blankness took its place. There was no animation in his dark eyes.

It was hard to look at his face, knowing that I loved him. It made more of a difference than I would have thought. I wondered if it had always been this hard for him, all this time.

Thankfully, someone had covered him with a quilt. It was relief not to have to see the extent of the damage.

I stepped in and shut the door quietly behind me.

"Hi, Kristoff," I murmured.

He didn't answer at first. He looked at my face for a long moment. Then, with some effort, he rearranged his expression into a slightly sarcastic smile.

"I was afraid it might be like that." He sighed. "Today has definitely taken a turn for the worse. First I pick the wrong place, miss the best fight, and Olaf gets all the glory. Then Liam has to be an idiot trying to prove he's tough as the rest of us and I have to be the idiot who saves him. And now this." He waved his left hand toward me where I hesitated by the door.

"How are you feeling?" I mumbled. What a stupid question.

"A little stoned. Dr. Fang isn't sure how much pain medication I need, so he's going with trial and error. Think he overdid it."

"But you're not in pain."

"No. At least, I can't feel my injuries," he said with a sigh.

I bit my lip. I was never going to get through this.

The wry humor left his face, and his eyes warmed up. His forehead creased, like he was worried.

"How about you?" he asked, sounding really concerned. "Are you okay?"

"Me?" I stared at him. "Youmustbe high. Why are you asking if I'm okay?"

"Well, I mean, I was sure she wouldn't actually hurt you or anything, but I wasn't sure how bad it was going to be. I've been going a little crazy worrying about you ever since I woke up. I didn't know if you were going to be allowed to visit or anything. The suspense was terrible. How did it go? Was she mean to you? I'm sorry if it was bad. I didn't mean for you to have to go through anything alone. I was thinking I'd be there…"

It took me a minute to even understand. He babbled on, looking more and more awkward, until I got what he was saying. Then I hurried to reassure him.

"No, no, Kristoff! I'm fine. Too fine, really. She wasn't mean at all."

His eyes narrowed in suspicion. "What?"

"She wasn't even mad at me—she wasn't even mad at you. Actually, she was impressed with you for bowing out like you did."

Kristoff stared at me for a minute, and then he frowned. "Well,damn." He huffed.

"What's wrong, Kristoff? Does it hurt?" My hands fluttered uselessly as I looked around for his medication.

"No," he sighed. "She really is a little too decent. I was hoping she had been at least a little awful, just to make me feel better. She wasn't angry at all?"

"Not even a little."

"Well, I mean, I'm glad she wasn't angry with you. I wouldn't want you to suffer… I guess, I don't know, I was hoping maybe she'd at least be angry with me. Give me some satisfaction after giving up." Kristoff chuckled, then winced.

I flinched at his pain. It was silent for a long moment.

"You're not really giving up, though, are you?" I finally said.

He smiled. "Not really, I guess. I just won't keep trying to make you choose me. I don't want to hurt you anymore by doing that. It's not fair. Besides, at least you see that youdolove me. That's worth something."

"Is it? Is it really better than if I was still in denial?"

"Don't you think you ought to know how you feel?"

I shook my head. "No—I didn't mean better for me. I meant better foryou. Does it make things better or worse for you, having me know that I'm in love with you? When I… when…" I stopped, feeling my emotions welling up. "Would it have been better, easier for you, if I never clued in?"

He took my question as seriously as I'd meant it, thinking carefully before he answered. "Yes, it's better to have you know," he finally decided. "If you hadn't figured it out… I'd have always wondered if your decision would have been different if you had. Now I know. I did everything I could." He dragged in an unsteady breath, and closed his eyes.

This time I did not—could not—resist the urge to comfort him. I crossed the small room and kneeled by his head, afraid to sit on the bed in case I jostled it and hurt him, and leaned in to touch my forehead to his cheek.

Kristoff sighed, and he put his hand on my hair, holding me there.

"I'm so sorry, Kristoff."

"I always knew this was a long shot. It's not your fault, Anna."

"Not you, too," I moaned. "Please."

He pulled away to look at me. "What?"

"Itismy fault. And I'm so sick of being told it's not."

He grinned, but it didn't touch his eyes. "You need to get over that. You can't help that we both fell in love with you. You're pretty great, you know."

"Am I? Why do I feel like I'm the worst person in the world right now?"

"You're the best." He smiled. "If I hadn't fallen in love with you then something would have been wrong with me. But she came first, I guess. That's just how it goes."

"Kristoff…"

"It our own faults, really. We made this way harder on you than we needed to. Mostly me, probably… Yeah, especially me." He chuckled softly. "I was too stubborn."

I started sniffling softly, my emotions bubbling over.

"Hey, you're not crying are you?" He shifted slightly on the bed.

"Yeah," I muttered, laughing weakly at myself through the tears that suddenly burst into sobs.

He shifted his weight, throwing his good leg off the bed as if he were going to try to stand.

"What are you doing?" I demanded through the tears. "Lie down, you idiot, you'll hurt yourself!" I jumped to my feet and pushed his good shoulder down with two hands.

He surrendered, leaning back with a gasp of pain, but he grabbed me around my waist and pulled me down on the bed, against his good side. I curled up there, trying to stifle the sobs against his hot skin.

"Don't cry, Anna." His voice was low and soothing. "Not for me."

"I think it's more my fault than either of you want to admit." I took a deep, ragged breath, trying to control myself.

"No, Anna, you never did anything to hurt us. Never intentionally." His hand rubbed against my shoulders.

"How did we end up here?" I asked, more to myself than him.

"I don't know." He sighed. "But don't worry, babe. It's all going to work out."

"I don't see how," I muttered.

He patted the top of my head. "I'm going to give in and be good. Really."

"What do you mean by 'be good'?"

"I mean I'll stop making this hard for you, and I'll still be your friend, Anna," he said quietly. "I won't ask for more than that."

"I think it's too late for that, Kristoff. How can we be friends, when we love each other like this?"

He looked at the ceiling, his stare intent, as if he were reading something that was written there. "Maybe… it will have to be a long-distance friendship."

I clenched my teeth together, glad he wasn't looking at my face, fighting against the sobs that threatened to overtake me again. I needed to be strong, and I had no idea how…

He looked back at my face. "I'm not going to split you in half anymore, Anna. I'm not going to keep pulling on your heart, because I think I'm just breaking it."

I closed my eyes, willing myself to control the pain.

We were quiet for a moment. Neither of us seemed to know what to say.

"Could I tell you what the worst part is?" He asked hesitantly.

"Will it help?" I whispered.

"It might. It couldn't hurt."

"What's the worst part, then?"

"The worst part is knowing what could have been."

My breath caught and I felt more tears pushing their way to the surface.

"I'm exactly right for you, Anna." He continued. "It would have been effortless for us—comfortable, as easy as breathing. I was the natural path your life would have taken…" He stared into space for a moment, and I waited. "If the world was the way it was supposed to be, if there were no monsters and no magic…"

I could see what he saw, and I knew that he was right. If the world was the sane place it was supposed to be, Kristoff and I would have been together. And we would have been happy. He was my soul mate in that world—would have been my soul mate still if we didn't live in the world we were in, if things hadn't happened the way they did.

Two futures, two soul mates… too much for any one person. And so unfair that it wasn't a choice between someone and someone better. A choice between the two most wonderful, perfect loves I could ever ask for.

"Anna, can I ask you something?" He asked quietly.

"Sure."

"Could it have been me?"

I looked back on all my time with him, stretching all the way back to when I first came to Forks. To the first time I saw Kristoff Black.

"Yeah, Kristoff," I felt the tears welling up again. "If I hadn't ever met her. If she had never been here. It would have been you." I started crying. "Maybe in another world, a girl moved to Forks and met this wonderful, sunny boy on the beach in La Push… and they started a friendship, and they fell in love… and they're happy together." I took a deep breath. "And that's the worst part for me."But that's just it I told him. Elsa is my soulmate in some weird supernatrual way.I love her. I do love you but it'll never be as strong.

The tears were pouring out of my eyes now, and I could hear him sniffling as well.

"I'll never be able to repay you for everything you did for me, Kristoff." I cried. "I used to think of you as my personal sun. You balanced out all the clouds for me."

He sighed. "The clouds I can handle. But I can't fight an eclipse."

I touched his face, laying my hand against his cheek. He exhaled at my touch and closed his eyes. It was very quiet. For a minute, I could hear the beating of his heart, slow and even.

"Thank you for telling me," he said softly. He kissed the top of my head, and then he sighed. "I'll be good now."

I looked up, and he was smiling.

"So you're going to get married, huh?"

"We don't have to talk about that."

"I'd like to know some of the details. I don't know when I'll talk to you again."

I had to wait for a minute before I could speak. When I was pretty sure my voice wouldn't break, I answered his question.

"It wasn't really my idea, but I suppose I'm warming up to it… a little."

Kristoff nodded. "It's not such a big thing—in comparison."

His voice was very calm, very practical. I stared at him, curious about how he was managing, and that ruined it. He met my eyes for a second, and then twisted his head away. I waited to speak until his breathing was under control.

"Yes. In comparison," I agreed.

"How long do you have left?"

"Oh, I don't know, depends on how long it takes Alice to pull a wedding together, I suppose." I said softly.

"No, I mean—" he stopped short.

"Oh."

"Yeah," he sighed.

"I don't know, Kristoff. I haven't decided. It could be a while." I whispered.

He nodded. This was a relief to him. I wondered how many sleepless nights the thought of my graduation had given him.

"Are you scared?" he whispered.

"Yes," I whispered back.

"But you're not totally sure you want… that?" He asked softly.

"No, I'm not."

We lay in silence for a long time. Finally, I stretched my neck up to whisper in his ear, laying my cheek against his warm skin. "You know I love you."

"I know," he breathed, his arm tightening automatically around my waist. "You know how much I wish it was enough."

"Yes."

"I'll always be waiting in the wings, Anna," he promised, lightening his tone and loosening his arm. I pulled away with a dull, dragging sense of loss, feeling the tearing separation as I left a part of me behind, there on the bed next to him. "You'll always have that spare option if you want it."

I made an effort to smile. "Until my heart stops beating."

He grinned back. "Maybe even after."

"Should I come back to see you? Or would you rather I didn't?"

"I'll think about it and get back to you," he said. "I might need the company to keep from going crazy. The doctor says I can't phase until he gives the okay—it might mess up the way the bones are set." Kristoff made a face.

"Be good and do what Carlisle tells you to do. You'll get well faster."

"Sure, sure."

"I wonder when it will happen," I said. "When the right person is going to catch your eye."

"Don't get your hopes up, Anna." Kristoff sighed. "Though I'm sure it would be a relief for you."

"Maybe, maybe not. As long as you were happy, I'd be happy." I tried to smile. "I probably won't think anyone is ever good enough for you. I wonder how jealous I'll be."

"That part might be kind of fun," he admitted.

"Let me know if you want me to come back, and I'll be here," I promised.

With a sigh, he turned his cheek toward me.

I leaned in, then hesitated. I took a deep breath and put my hand on his face, turning him to look at me. I leaned in and kissed him, one last time, on the lips.

"Love you, Kristoff."

"Love you more."

He watched me walk out of his room with an unfathomable expression in his black eyes.


	28. human

I didn't get very far before driving became impossible.

When I couldn't see anymore, I let my tires find the rough shoulder and rolled slowly to a stop. I slumped over on the seat and allowed the emotions I'd fought in Kristoff's room crush me. It was worse than I'd thought—the force of it took me by surprise. Yes, I had been right to hide this from Kristoff. It would have made everything infinitely worse if he saw this.

But I wasn't alone for very long—just exactly long enough for Alice to see me here, and then the few minutes it took her to arrive. The door creaked open, and she pulled me into her arms.

At first, it was worse. Because there was a part of me that craved a different set of arms. A part of me that was fighting to become the dominant part. So then there was fresh guilt to season the pain.

She didn't say anything, she just let me sob until I began to blubber out David's name.

"Are you really ready to go home?" she asked doubtfully.

I managed to convey, after several attempts, that it wasn't going to get better anytime soon. I needed to get past David before it got late enough for him to call Billy.

So she drove me home—for once not even getting close to my truck's internal speed limit—keeping one arm wrapped tightly around me. The whole way, I fought for control. It seemed to be a doomed effort at first, but I didn't give up. Just a few seconds, I told myself. Just time for a few excuses, or a few lies, and then I could break down again. I had to be able to do that much. I scrambled around in my head, searching desperately for a reserve of strength.

There was just enough for me to quiet the sobs—hold them back but not end them. The tears didn't slow. I couldn't seem to find any handle to even begin to with those.

"Wait for me upstairs," I mumbled when we were in front of the house.

She hugged me closer for one minute, and then she was gone.

Once inside, I headed straight for the stairs.

"Anna?" David called after me from his usual place on the sofa as I walked by.

I turned to look at him without speaking. His eyes got wide and he lurched to his feet.

"What happened? Is Kristoff…?" he demanded.

I shook my head furiously, trying to find my voice. "He's fine, he's fine," I promised, my voice low and husky. And Kristoffwasfine, physically, which is all David was worried about at the moment.

"But what happened?" He grabbed my shoulders, his eyes still anxious and wide. "What happened to you?"

I must look worse than I'd imagined.

"Nothing, Dad. I… Kristoff and I had to talk about… some things that were hard. I'm okay."

The anxiety calmed, and was replaced by disapproval mingled with concern.

"Was this really the best time?" he asked.

"Probably not, Dad, but I didn't have any alternatives—it just got to the point where I had to choose… Sometimes, there isn't any way to compromise."

He shook his head slowly. "How did he handle it?"

I didn't answer.

He looked at my face for a minute, and then nodded. That must have been answer enough.

"I hope this doesn't mess up his recovery."

"He's a quick healer," I mumbled.

David sighed.

I could feel the control slipping.

"I'll be in my room," I told him, shrugging out from underneath his hands.

"Okay, Anna," David agreed. "I'm sorry, kiddo. I know that couldn't have been easy for you. Take as much time as you need, okay?"

I think I nodded, but I couldn't be sure. I stumbled blindly to my room as my tears started pouring out even heavier than before.

Once in my room, I fought with the clasp of my necklace, trying to undo it with shaking fingers.

"No, Anna," Elsa whispered, capturing my hands. "It's part of who you are."

She pulled me into the cradle of her arms as the sobs broke free again.

The longest of days seemed to stretch on and on. I wondered if it would ever end.

The night dragged relentlessly, I tried to think back if it was the worst of them. At least someone was here to comfort me tonight, and that was something.

David seemed to understand that I needed space, so he left me alone, though I was not quiet—he probably got no more sleep than I did.

My hindsight seemed unbearably clear tonight. I could see every mistake I'd made, every mistake we all made. Every bit of harm I'd done, the small things and the big things. Each pain I'd caused Kristoff, each pain he'd caused me, every wound I'd given Elsa, and every wound she'd given me, all of them stacked up into neat piles that I could not ignore or deny.

And I realized that I'd been wrong all along about the magnets. It had not just been Elsa and Kristoff that I'd been trying to force together, it was the two parts of myself, the two halves of my heart—the half held by Elsa and the half held by Kristoff. Two halves of me. They existed in direct opposition to each other, even though they were exactly the same.

So much damage done.

Elsa said little; she just held me on the bed and let me ruin her shirt, staining it with salt water.

It took longer than I thought it would for me to cry myself out. It happened, though, and I was eventually exhausted enough to sleep. Unconsciousness did not bring full relief from the pain, just a numbing, dulling ease, like medicine. Made it more bearable. But it was still there; I was aware of it, even asleep, and that helped me make the adjustments I needed to make.

The morning brought with it, if not a brighter outlook, at least a measure of control, some acceptance. Instinctively I knew that this tear in my heart would always ache. That this fracture was just going to be a part of me now. Time would make it easier—that's what everyone always said. But I didn't care if time healed me or not, so long as Kristoff could get better. Could be happy again.

When I woke up, there was no disorientation. I opened my eyes—finally dry—and met her anxious gaze.

"Hey," I said. My voice was hoarse. I cleared my throat.

She didn't answer. She watched me, waiting for it to start.

"No, I'm fine," I promised. "That won't happen again."

Her eyes tightened at my words.

"I'm sorry that you had to see that," I said. "That wasn't fair to you."

She put her hands on either side of my face.

"Anna… are yousure? Did you make the right choice? I've never seen you in so much pain—" her voice broke on the last word.

"Pain is a part of being human," I said softly.

"But…"

"I'm sure, Elsa." I touched her cool lips. "What Kristoff and I had—what we could have had—would have been great. Amazing, even. But we both understand that we aren't meant to be… not in this life, anyway. This life is mine and yours, Elsa. You're who I choose." I took a deep, slightly shaky breath. "I can only hope that some day Kristoff finds someone who loves him the way he deserves to be loved."

"Anna, I can't stand for you to be miserable. Maybe…"

"No, Elsa. There's a part of me that's always going to love Kristoff Black, and that's just something you'll have to learn to accept. But I love you, and I choose to be with you. I fell in love with you first, after all." I tried to smile, but it took more effort than it should. I love you more Elsa I can live without Kristoff but...I can't live without you. I tried before and it was hell. I can't go through it again.

Elsa wrapped her arms around me. "I love you." She whispered into my hair.

"I love you. I know what I want and what I need… and what I'm going to do now."

"What arewegoing to do now?"

I smiled just a bit at her correction, and then I sighed. "We are going to go see Alice."

Alice was on the bottom porch step, too hyper to wait for us inside. She looked about to break into a celebration dance, so excited was she about the news she knew I was there to deliver.

"Thank you, Anna!" she sang as we got out of the truck.

"Hold it, Alice," I warned her, lifting up a hand to halt her glee. "I've got a few limitations for you."

"I know, I know, I know. August thirteenth is the date, you have veto power on the guest list, and if I go overboard on anything, you'll never speak to me again."

"Oh, okay. Well, yeah. You know the rules, then."

"Don't worry, Anna, it will be perfect. Do you want to see your dress?"

I laughed. "Sure."

Alice's smile was smug.

"Um, Alice," I said, blinking, "When did you get me a dress?"

Elsa squeezed my hand, smiling.

Alice led the way inside, heading for the stairs. "These things take time, Anna," Alice explained. Her tone seemed… evasive. "I mean, I wasn'tsurethings were going tto turn out this way, but there was a distinct possibility…"

"When?" I asked again.

"Perrine Bruyere has a waiting list, you know," she said, defensive now. "Fabric masterpieces don't happen overnight. If I hadn't thought ahead, you'd be wearing something off the rack!"

It didn't look like I was going to get a straight answer. "Per—who?"

"He's not a major designer, Anna, so there's no need to get too worked up. He's got promise, though, and he specializes in custom dresses which was exactly what I needed."

"I'm not getting worked up."

"No, you're not." She eyed my calm face suspiciously. Then, as we walked into her room, she turned on Elsa.

"You—out."

"Wait, why?" I asked.

"Anna," she groaned. "You know the rules. She's not supposed to see until the day of!"

I chuckled softly. "It doesn't matter to me. And you know she's already seen it in your head. But if that's how you want it…"

She shoved Elsa back out the door. She didn't even look at her—her eyes were on me, wary, afraid to leave me alone.

I nodded, hoping my expression was tranquil enough to reassure her.

Alice shut the door in her face.

"All right!" She muttered. "C'mon."

She grabbed my wrist and towed me to her closet—which was bigger than my bedroom—and then dragged me to the back corner, where a long black garment bag had a rack all to itself.

She unzipped the bag in one sweeping movement, and then slipped it carefully off the hanger. She took a step back, holding her hand out to the dress like she was a game show hostess.

"Well?" she asked breathlessly.

I appraised it for a long moment, playing with her a bit. Her expression turned worried.

"Ah," I said, and I smiled, letting her relax. "I see."

"What do you think?" she demanded.

I couldn't help but smile widely at the dress.

"It's perfect, of course. Exactly right. You're a genius."

She grinned. "I know."

"Nineteen-eighteen?" I guessed.

"More or less," she said, nodding. "Some of it ismydesign, the robe, the dress itsself…" she turned and pulled something off a nearby shelf and showed it to me. "The cufflinks are vintage," she smiled, opening the box. "Do you like it all?"

"It's beautiful, Alice. Just right for her."

"But is it just right for you?" she insisted.

"Yes, I think it is. I think it's just what I need. I know you'll do a great job with this… if you can keep yourself in check."

She beamed.

"Can I see your dress?" I asked.

She blinked, her face blank.

"Didn't you order your bridesmaid dress at the same time? I wouldn't want my maid of honor to wear something off therack." I pretended to wince in horror.

She threw her arms around my waist. "Thank you, Anna!"

"How could you not see that one coming?" I teased, kissing her hair. "Some psychic you are!"

Alice danced back, and her face was bright with fresh enthusiasm. "I've got so much to do! Go play with Elsa. I have to get to work."

She dashed out of the room, yelling, "Esme!" as she disappeared.

I followed at my own pace. Elsa was waiting for me in the hallway, leaning against the wood-paneled wall.

"That was very, very nice of you," she told me.

"She seems happy," I agreed.

She touched my face; her eyes—too dark, it had been so long since she'd left me—searched my expression minutely.

"Let's get out of here," she suddenly suggested. "Let's go to our meadow."

It sounded very appealing. "I guess I don't have to hide out anymore, do I?"

"No. The danger is behind us."

She was quiet, thoughtful, as she ran. The wind blew on my face, warmer now that the storm had really passed. The clouds covered the sky, the way they usually did.

The meadow was a peaceful, happy place today. Patches of summer daisies interrupted the grass with splashes of white and yellow. I lay back, ignoring the slight dampness of the ground, and looked for pictures in the clouds. They were too even, too smooth. No pictures, just a soft, gray blanket.

Elsa lay next to me and held my hand.

"August thirteenth?" she asked casually after a few minutes of comfortable silence.

"That gives me a month till my birthday. I figured I should give Alice some time to throw everything together, but I also didn't want to cut it too close."

She sighed. "Esme is three years older than Carlisle — technically. Did you know that?"

I shook my head.

"It hasn't made any difference to them."

My voice was serene, a counterpoint to her anxiety. "My age is not really that important. Elsa, I'm ready. I've chosen my life—now I want to start living it."

She stroked my hair. "The guest list veto?"

"I don't care really, but I…" I hesitated, not wanting to explain this one. Best to get it over with. "I'm not sure if Alice would feel the need to invite… a few werewolves. I don't know if… Kristoff would feel like… like heshouldcome. Like that's the right thing to do, or that I'd get my feelings hurt if he didn't. He shouldn't have to go through that."

Elsa was quiet for a minute. I stared at the tips of the treetops, almost black against the light gray of the sky.

Suddenly, Elsa grabbed me around the waist and pulled me into her chest.

"Tell me why you're doing this, Anna. Why did you decide, now, to give Alice free rein?"

I repeated for her the conversation I had with David last night before I'd gone to see Kristoff.

"It wouldn't be fair to keep David out of this," I concluded. "And that means Renée and Phil. I might as well let Alice have her fun, too. Maybe it will make the whole thing easier for David if he gets his proper goodbye. Even if he thinks it's much too early, I wouldn't want to cheat him out of the chance to walk me down the aisle." I laughed, picturing it to myself. "At least my mom and dad and my friends will know the best part of my choice, the most I'm allowed to tell them. They'll know I chose you, and they'll know we're together. They'll know I'm happy, wherever I am. I think that's the best I can do for them."

Elsa held my face, searching it for a brief time.

"Wedding's off," she said abruptly.

"What?" I gasped. "You're backing out? No!"

"I'm not backing out, Anna. I'm just letting you off the hook. Whatever you want to do, however you want to do it."

"Why?"

"Anna, I see what you're doing. You're trying to make everyone else happy. And I don't care about anyone else's feelings. I only needyouto be happy. Don't worry about breaking the news to Alice. I'll take care of it. I promise she won't make you feel guilty."

"But I —"

"No. We're doing this your way. Because my way doesn't work. I call you stubborn, but look at what I've done. I've clung with such idiotic obstinacy to my idea of what's best for you, though it's only hurt you. Hurt you so deeply, time and time again. I don't trust myself anymore. You can have happiness your way. My way is always wrong. So." She shifted under me, squaring her shoulders. "We're doing ityourway, Anna. Tonight. Today. The sooner the better. I'll speak to Carlisle. I was thinking that maybe if we give you enough morphine, it wouldn't be so bad. It's worth a try." She gritted her teeth.

"Elsa, no—"

She put her finger to my lips. "Don't worry, Anna, love. I haven't forgotten what else you wanted—what we wanted."

Her hands were in my hair, her lips moving softly — but very seriously — against mine, before I realized what she was saying. What she was doing.

There wasn't much time to act. If I waited too long, I wouldn't be able to remember why I needed to stop her. Already, I couldn't breathe right. My hands were gripping her arms, pulling myself tighter to her, my mouth glued to hers and answering every unspoken question she asked.

I tried to clear my head, to find a way to speak.

She rolled gently, pressing me into the cool grass.

Oh, never mind!my less noble side exulted. My head was full of the sweetness of her breath.

No, no, no, I argued with myself. I shook my head, and her mouth moved to my neck, giving me a chance to breathe.

"Stop, Elsa. Wait." My voice was as weak as my will.

"Why?" she whispered into the hollow of my throat.

I labored to put some resolve into my tone. "I don't want to do this now."

"Don't you?" she asked, a smile in her voice. She moved her lips back to mine and made speaking impossible. Heat coursed through my veins, burning where my skin touched hers.

I made myself focus. It took a great deal of effort just to force my hands to free themselves from her hair, to move them to her chest. But I did it. And then I shoved against her, trying to push her away. I could not succeed alone, but she responded as I knew she would.

She pulled back a few inches to look at me, and her eyes did nothing to help my resolve. They were black fire. They smoldered.

"Why?" she asked again, her voice low and rough. "I love you. I want you. Right now."

The butterflies in my stomach flooded my throat. She took advantage of my speechlessness.

"Wait, wait," I tried to say around her lips.

"Not for me," she murmured in disagreement.

"Please?" I gasped.

She groaned, and pushed herself away from me, rolling onto her back again.

We both lay there for a minute, trying to slow our breathing.

"Tell me why not, Anna," she demanded. "This had better not be about me."

I laughed.

"No, my beautiful idiot, this is aboutme."

She looked at me, confused.

I took a deep breath, and I stood up.

"We're doing this the right way. Because it's howIwant to do it. I want to give David and Renée the satisfaction of seeing me married. I want Alice to have her fun. I want to have a wedding. I want to tie myself to you in every human way possible… Because I'm choosing me. I'm choosing to be human, Elsa."

Her eyes widened, and she stood with me. "I don't understand, you said you didn't want to cut it too close…"

"Well, I don't want people making a big fuss about a wedding anniversaryandmy birthday all in one month. I might explode."

"But, what about giving David a proper goodbye?" She asked, her eyes blazing.

"I'm going to be moving out, either way. Be it for college, or getting married, or whatever. I want David to know I'm being taken care of. I want everyone to know what I chose. I'm choosing you, Elsa—but I'm choosing to stay human."

She wrapped her arms around my waist and I smiled.

"This wasn't just a choice between you and Kristoff. It was a choosing the right path for me. I've faced death and loss and pain in your world. But, I've also never felt stronger, more real, more…myself.Because it'smyworld, too, Elsa. It's where I belong." I smiled at her. "But I belong in it exactly as I am. Human. Because that's how I've faced it so far, and how I'll face it from now on."

She smiled down at me, wistful. "If you change your mind…"

"You'll be the first to know," I promised.

The rain started to drop through the clouds just then, a few scattered drops that made faintthudsas they struck the grass.

I stared up into the sky, smiling widely.

"I'll get you home." She brushed the tiny beads of water from my cheeks.

"Rain's not the problem," I sighed. "But it does mean that it's time to go do something that will be very unpleasant and possibly even highly dangerous."

Her eyes widened in alarm.

"It's a good thing you're bulletproof." I teased. "I'm going to need that ring. It's time to tell David."

She laughed with me now. "Highly dangerous," she agreed. She laughed again and then reached into the pocket of her jeans. "But at least there's no need for a side trip."

She once again slid my ring into place on the third finger of my left hand.

Where it would stay—for the rest of my human life


	29. Epilogue choice Kristoff pov

"Kristoff, do you think this is going to take too much longer?" Liam demanded. Impatient. Grating.

My teeth clenched together.

Like anyone in the pack, Liam knew everything. He knew why I came here—to the very edge of the earth and sky and sea. To be alone. He knew this was all I wanted. Just to be alone.

But Liam was going to force his company on me, anyway.

Besides being crazy annoyed, I did feel smug for a brief second. Because I didn't even have to think about controlling my temper. It was easy now, something I just did, natural. The red haze didn't wash over my eyes. The heat didn't shiver down my spine. My voice was calm when I answered.

"Jump off a cliff, Liam." I pointed to the one at my feet.

"Really, kid." He ignored me, throwing himself into a sprawl on the ground next to me. "You have no idea how hard this is for me."

"Foryou?" It took me a minute to believe he was serious. "You have to be the most self-absorbed person alive, Liam. I'd hate to shatter the dream world you live in—the one where the sun is orbiting the place where you stand—so I won't tell you how little I care what your problem is.Go. Away."

"Just look at this from my perspective for a minute, okay?" he continued as if I hadn't said anything.

If he was trying to break my mood, it worked. I started laughing. The sound hurt in strange ways.

"Stop snorting and pay attention." He snapped.

"If I pretend to listen, will you leave?" I asked, glancing over at the permanent scowl on his face. I wasn't sure if he had any other expression anymore.

I remembered back to when I used to think that Liam was handsome, maybe even beautiful. That was a long time ago. No one thought of him that way now. Except for Sam. He was never going to forgive himself. Like it was his fault that he'd turned Liam into this bitter shell of who he used to be.

His scowl heated up, as if he could guess what I was thinking. Probably could.

"This is making me sick, Kristoff. Can you imagine what this feels like tome? I don't evenlike Anna Winters. And you've got me grieving over this leech-lover like I'm in love with her, too. Can you see where that might make my life more difficult than it already is? I mean, I dreamed about kissing her last night! What the hell am I supposed to do withthat?"

"Do I care?"

"I can't stand being in your head anymore! Get over her already! She's going tomarrythat thing. She's going to become one of them someday! Time to move on, boy."

"Shutup," I growled.

It would be wrong to strike back. I knew that. I was biting my tongue. But he'd be sorry if he didn't walk away. Now.

"She'll probably just kill her anyway," Liam said. Sneering. "All the stories say that happens more often than not. Maybe a funeral will be better closure than a wedding. Ha."

This time I had to work. I closed my eyes and fought the hot taste in my mouth. I pushed and shoved against the slide of fire down my back, wrestling to keep my shape together while my body tried to shake apart.

When I was in control again, I glowered at him. He was watching my hands as the tremors slowed. Smiling.

Some joke.

"You'd think you'd be a little more sympathetic to someone who had their heart broken, Liam…," I said. Slow, emphasizing each word. "Someone who got cast aside for someone else." I shrugged. "And now getting on my case about how I feel about Anna, I mean, how do you think the rest of us like looking at Sam through your eyes? It's bad enough that Emily has to deal withyourfixation. She doesn't need all us guys panting after him, too."

Pissed as I was, I still felt guilty when I watched the spasm of pain shoot across his face.

He scrambled to his feet—pausing only to spit in my direction—and ran for the trees, vibrating like a tuning fork.

I laughed darkly. "You missed."

Sam was going to give me hell for that, but it was worth it. Liam wouldn't bug me anymore. I didn't feel bad… Even if it was a disgustingly low blow.

But I didn't feel bad because his words were still there, scratching themselves into my brain, the pain of it so strong that I could hardly breathe.

It didn't matter so much that Anna'd chosen someone else over me. That agony was nothing at all. That agony I could live with for the rest of my stupid, too long, stretched-out life.

But it did matter that she was giving up everything—that she was letting her heart stop and her skin ice over and her mind twisted into some crystallized predator's head. A monster. A stranger.

I would have thought there was nothing worse than that, nothing more painful in the whole world.

But, if shekilledAnna…

Again, I had to fight the rage. Maybe, if not for Liam, it would be good to let the heat change me into a creature who could deal with it better. A creature with instincts so much stronger than human emotions. An animal who couldn't feel pain in the same way. A different pain. Some variety, at least. But Liam was running now, and I didn't want to share his thoughts. I cussed him under my breath for taking away that escape, too.

My hands were shaking in spite of me. What shook them? Anger? Agony? I wasn't sure what I was fighting now.

I had to believe that Anna, would survive. But that required trust—a trust I didn't want to feel, a trust in that bloodsucker's ability to keep her alive.

She would be different, and I wondered how that would affect me. Would it be the same as if she had died, to see her standing there like stone? Like ice? When her scent burned in my nostrils and triggered the instinct to rip, to tear… How could that be? Could I want to killAnna? Could I not want to kill one ofthem?

I watched the swells roll toward the beach. They disappeared from sight under the edge of the cliff, but I heard them beat against the sand. I watched them until it was late, long after dark.

Going home was probably a bad idea. But I was hungry, and I couldn't think of another plan.

I made a face as I pulled my arm through the stupid sling and grabbed my crutches. If only David hadn't seen me that day and spread the word of my "motorcycle accident." Stupid props. I hated them.

Going hungry started to look better when I walked in the house and got a look at my dad's face. He had something on his mind. It was easy to tell — he always overdid it. Acted all casual.

He also talked too much. He was rambling about his day before I could get to the table. He never jabbered like this unless there was something that he didn't want to say. I ignored him as best I could, concentrating on the food. The faster I choked it down…

"…and Sue stopped by today." My dad's voice was loud. Hard to ignore. As always. "Amazing woman. She's tougher than grizzlies, that one. I don't know how she deals with that oldest boy of hers, though. Liam's more like a wolverine than a wolf." He chuckled at his own joke.

He waited briefly for my response, but didn't seem to see my blank, bored-out-of-my-mind expression. Most days that bugged him. I wished he would shut up about Liam. I was trying not to think about him.

"Olaf's a lot easier. Younger kids usually are, I think. You were easier than your sisters, too, until… well, you have more to deal with than they did."

I sighed, long and deep, and stared out the window.

Billy was quiet for a second too long. "We got a letter today."

I could tell that this was the subject he'd been avoiding.

"A letter?"

"A… wedding invitation."

Every muscle in my body locked into place. A feather of heat seemed to brush down my back. I held onto the table to keep my hands steady.

Billy went on like he hadn't noticed. "There's a note inside that's addressed to you. I didn't read it."

He pulled a thick ivory envelope from where it was wedged between his leg and the side of his wheelchair. He laid it on the table between us.

"You probably don't need to read it. Doesn't really matter what it says."

Stupid reverse psychology. I yanked the envelope off the table.

It was some heavy, stiff paper. Expensive. Too fancy for Forks. The card inside was the same, too done-up and formal. Anna'd had nothing to do with this. There was no sign of her personal taste in the layers of see-through, ivy-printed pages. I'd bet she didn't like it at all. I didn't read the words, not even to see the date. I didn't care.

There was a piece of the thick ivory paper folded in half with my name handwritten in black ink on the back. I didn't recognize the handwriting, but it was as fancy as the rest of it. For half a second, I wondered if the bloodsucker was into gloating.

I flipped it open.

Krostoff,

I'm breaking the rules by sending you this. She was afraid of hurting you, and she didn't want to make you feel obligated in any way. But I know that, if things had gone the other way, I would have wanted the choice.

I promise I will take care of her, Kristoff. Thank you—for her—for everything.

Elsa

"Kristoff, we only have the one table," Billy said. He was staring at my left hand.

My fingers were clamped down on the wood hard enough that it really was in danger. I loosened them one by one, concentrating on that action alone, and then clenched my hands together so I couldn't break anything.

"Yeah, doesn't matter anyway," Billy muttered.

I got up from the table, shrugging out of my t-shirt as I stood. Hopefully Liam had gone home by now.

"Not too late," Billy mumbled as I punched the front door out of my way.

I was running before I hit the trees, my clothes strewn out behind me like a trail of crumbs—as if I wanted to find my way back. It was almost too easy now to phase. I didn't have to think. My body already knew where I was going and, before I asked it to, it gave me what I wanted.

I had four legs now, and I was flying.

The trees blurred into a sea of black flowing around me. My muscles bunched and released in an effortless rhythm. I could run like this for days and I would not be tired. Maybe, this time, I wouldn't stop.

But I wasn't alone.

So sorry, Sven whispered in my head.

I could see through his eyes. He was far away, to the north, but he had wheeled around and was racing to join me. I growled and pushed myself faster.

Wait for us, Quil complained. He was closer, just starting out from the village.

Leave me alone, I snarled.

I could feel their worry in my head, trying hard as I might to drown it in the sound of the wind and the forest. This was what I hated most—seeing myself through their eyes, worse now that their eyes were full of pity. They saw the hate, but they kept running after me.

A new voice sounded in my head.

Let him go.Sam's thought was soft, but still an order. Sven and Quil slowed to a walk.

If only I could stop hearing, stop seeing what they saw. My head was so crowded, but the only way to be alone again was to be human, and I couldn't stand the pain.

Phase back, Sam directed them.I'll pick you up, Sven.

First one, then another awareness faded into silence. Only Sam was left.

Thank you, I managed to think.

Come home when you can. The words were faint, trailing off into blank emptiness as he left, too. And I was alone.

So much better. Now I could hear the faint rustle of the matted leaves beneath my claws, the whisper of an owl's wings above me, the ocean—far, far in the west—moaning against the beach. Hear this, and nothing more. Feel nothing but speed, nothing but the pull of muscle, sinew, and bone, working together in harmony as the miles disappeared behind me.

If the silence in my head lasted, I would never go back. I wouldn't be the first one to choose this form over the other. Maybe, if I ran far enough away, I would never have to hear again…

I pushed my legs faster, letting Kristoff Black disappear behind me.

 **aww poor Kristoff. I'm sure you guys prob feel sorry for him but this is Elsa and Anna story. Anyway what did you guys think of the last chapters. And are you guys ready for breaking Dawn :) tell me in the reviews.**


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